


Only Love Can Kill me, and Bring Me Back

by Thefierypen34



Series: A Song of Fire and Blood [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Guilt, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Magic, Multiple Magical Mentors, Pregnancy, Resurrection, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicide Attempt, The Targlings Are The Chosen Ones, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-03-14 15:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 55,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18950638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefierypen34/pseuds/Thefierypen34
Summary: After the events in the series finale Drogon flies Daenerys to the Red Temple in Volantis to the Red Priestess Kinvara.She is resurrected and deals with the betrayal and heartbreak of her circumstances. Beyond the wall jon snow is barely alive. He eats and drinks and sleeps but he is a shadow of the man he used to be, finding joy in nothing but the thoughts of ending his own life.





	1. Prologue: Kinvara

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone( or one or two of y'all) I started writing this 20 minutes after the finale ended and i was hesitant to post it. I don't have a beta so I have no idea if this is any god or if its trash. I have about three chapters somewhat written and four outlined I decided to post because i see there are a lot of resurrection fics and i wanted to put my spin on it and what the hell? If i don't post it, no one will read it and I won't know if it's any good or not. Please comment with any feedback. If you want to beta or collab I'm open to it. I hope you enjoy this heart child of mine!

Her prayers were interrupted by a loud crash and earth-shattering shrieks. ‘What more could the Lord Of Light want from me this day?’ the priestess thought. Sighing inwardly, she stood up from her prostrate position by the fire and made her way to where the commotion was coming from. As she walked the hallways of the Red Temple the shrieks grew louder as she drew closer to the courtyard and she felt the blood warm within her veins. Whatever this was would change history, or kill her, perhaps both this day.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she came to the opening of the courtyard. Where there was once order chaos reigned. The beast was Drogon. The dragon of the one who was promised was thrashing his tail about her acolytes as they attempted to spear him. One unlucky acolyte stepped forward brandishing his weapon and abruptly met his end when the beast clubbed him and sent him flying into a plinth. With a sickening crunch, blood and brain matter spattered and just like that he was no more. Kinvara surveyed the scene before her. The fire that was supposed to burn in perpetuity as a symbol of the lord of lights power over life and death was smothered in a pile of rubble. The walls had fissures and begun to buck and melt In some places from the short bursts of dragon fire. Curiously the beast has not moved and seemed to be protecting something. She inched closer, cautiously. Although she was among the strongest of her lords’ servants, she was also among one of the last, after her sister Melisandre and brother Thoros perished fighting the great other. She had no wish to die today. As she got closer, she saw the dragon was guarding something- no someone with silver hair. Her breath caught in her throat as she knew it was the Dragon Queen. Daenerys of House Targaryen. She moved closer and saw the pallor of death and the stench of decay on her. Her skin which was alabaster with a pearlescent glow was now blueish gray. She eased ever closer to the dragon.

_‘Sagon gīda.  Nyke jaelagon naejot dohaeragon ‘_ Be calm I wish to help, she said in High Valyrian, the only language she thought they understood. The dragon looked at her and she could see the fury in his eyes quell. He moved his wing and Kinvara took that as an invitation to step even closer. The dragon queen was dead, but for how long she didn’t know. This would not be an easy task. She needed help. “Katlaina, fetch the high priest. AT ONCE!” Her last words ending in a shrill tone. She needed to move her body and undress her.

_‘Naejot save zirȳla, ziry ēdruta_ sagon _dīnagontan’_ she looked him directly in the eyes as she said this. “To save her, she must be moved’. The beast moved only inches away from her face, so close the heat from his breath made her eyes water. A look of understanding passed over his face and he moved back a bit.

She turned to see the petrified acolytes and their looks of confusion and awe. “This one needs saving and I need you, all of you, if the lords will is to be done this day. Move her to the inner temple.”

      Just then, Morroko the High Priest and Likenia, a novice priestess entered the courtyard. “Acolytes,” he shouted. “Your priestess commands and you obey.” Just like that the novices moved almost as one to retrieve the body of the Queen from the dragon. At their approach he became hostile, but at the urgings from Kinvara he allowed them to take her body.

Kinvara, Morroko and Likenia rushed ahead of the acolytes to hastily prepare the inner temple to ignite the fire of life within the dragon queen. Once they reached the temple kinvara walked over to the fire and began a prayer.

_‘Āeksiot Ōño Tepagon bisa humble servant_

_se power naejot ōños se perzys bona_

_ēza gone hen.  Nyke epagon bisa hen ao lo_

_issa aōha kessa ūndegon ziry gaomagon’_

’Lord of Light, Give this humble servant

 the power to light the fire that has gone out.

 I ask this of you if it is your will see it done.’

At the last word she drew a dagger from a fold in her gown and slashed it across her palm, squeezing it and feeding her blood to the fire, which roared in response to the blood offering. The acolytes arrived with her body, merely seconds behind kinvara but time seemed to standstill. She motioned for them to lie her on the platform just before the fire. Kinvara moved to undress her while Likenia snipped a lock of hair from the queens head. _So cold,_ she thought, the fire has been gone from this one for at least two days. She didn’t know if she could bring her back, and if she did what world come back but she had to try. Morroko seemed to read her mind. “Sister, she may be beyond our help. These matters of life and death are not for us to decide.” Likenia eyes narrowed but she said nothing at this kinvara allowed herself a small smirk at the mans ignorance. “The lord of light gave us this power, if it is not his will her fire will never reignite. What we need now is unwavering faith. Do you have that Morroko?” he swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes sister.” Good. Now she can work. But first she needed to know how she met her fate.

She walked to the fire and took some of the hair clippings likenia had just cut, and tossed them in. She saw shapes in the fire and the shapes led to a vision.  A vision of ashes and iron, A vision of the queen bearing her soul and beig stabbed in the heart, by the one who held her heart. Kinvara felt the knife pierce her own heart, and the betrayal as if she was the queen. She turned back to the form on the table. Tears were blurring her vision but she said the words anyway.

_Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon._

**We ask the Lord to shine his light and lead a soul out of darkness.**

_Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon._

**We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out.**

_Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson._

**From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.**

Likenia had stripped the body and had begun washing the blood and ashes from her with waters from their sacred hot spring. By this time the High priest and likenia had joined the chanting as it reached a feverish pitch. They said the words over and over with nothing happening until kinvara saw two little flames spark to life in her minds eye. Her eyes flew open. “Impossible’ she breathed. Two specks of life accompanied by two unusually rapid heartbeats grew and grew. However the queens heart was still and showed no signs of life.

Of all the times the lord of life had decided to reignite the life fire this had never happened. She chanted louder and stronger. Harder and longer. Sweat beading on her brow and upper lip. She lost herself in the chant and placed her hands upon the queens brow. She wasn’t sure but she thought she felt warmer. She urged herself on. All sense of time fled. Minutes or hours dhe did not know but she felt the fatigue. Her knees felt weak, her bones ached and for the first time in a very long time, Kinvara felt cold.

_Only  death can pay for life,_ she thought as the life and fire slipped from her body. As the high priestess of the  Red Temple, The lord of lights will made manifest took her last breath, Daenerys took her first, after being in the abyss for two days.


	2. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, Time jump.  
> Here we visit Jon and how he's dealing or not dealing with his actions in the throne room.

The days seemed endless and the nights were cold. Six months had passed since it happened but breathing didn’t get easier. Each breath felt like dragonfire, burning his chest and reminding him that death had not found him yet. His existence was a miserable monotony. Wake, eat, fight, fuck, piss shit. The fighting and fucking did nothing to ease his mind or conscience. But he was good at it, and while it did nothing to ease him, at least when he was fighting he wasn’t thinking of her. When he was fucking, cock buried deep in some nameless cunt, he didn’t think of her. But once the fighting and fucking were done, she haunted him. He rarely had a night of sleep without seeing her face. Sometimes he would dream of her at the waterfall and she would say “ You know nothing Jon Snow. We should have stayed here for a thousand years”. Other times she was in the throne room, blood dripping from her mouth looking at him with tears in her eyes as the life fled her body.  
He thought it was the right thing. He had always done the right thing, no matter how hard. No matter the consequences. But somehow, this didn’t feel right. What would Fa- Uncle think of my actions. Kinslayer, Queenslayer, Oathbreaker all titles I wear now. A man with no honor. A man with nothing. The rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms freezing his stones off in exile for doing the right thing. And it was wrong. I should just open my veins and be done with it, He thought.  
A draft licked his skin and he turned to see Tormund entering his hut, uninvited as usual. “ King of Sorrows, some of us have a fire and drink going. Would you like to join us or will you hold your cock in hand alongside your bleeding heart all night?” As soon as the last words left his lips Tormund knew he overstepped. Jon looked up and Tormund visibly shrank back. There was a void in his eyes. A big pool of sorrow and regret that continued to swell as the days passed. “I’m sorry friend. I know this is hard. But your Queen is dead. She wouldn’t want you to follow her” he said as he laid his hand on Jons’ shoulder. He shrugged the gesture away. “What she would want, you say? She doesn’t want anything because the dead want for nothing. I killed her Tormund. I kissed her. I made her feel secure, in giving her what I knew she was begging from me for weeks.” He let out a ragged breath, choked with emotions and tears that would not fall. “I left her alone to deal with the death of her second child and her closest friends. All she wanted was me, and I was too damn selfish and stubborn and honorable to return her affection. I just didn’t want to admit that no matter our relation, I wanted her. I wanted to love her, and plant my seed in her belly to prove the witch wrong. I wanted everything with her and the fact that she was my aunt” he paused as the tears he had been holding back for six months spilled and flowed freely. He continued, voice thick with tears. “The fact that she was my aunt didn’t bother me, the fact that I was in love with her and she was my aunt left me unsettled. I decided the morning of the battle that it didn’t matter and when it was over I would go to her and tell her. But it was too late.” Tormund sighed. “Aye. King of sorrows. It was too late, so you went to her and you killed her. But why? As you said, she lost her dragons, and her closets people, I think any one of us would have done the same.” Jon looked at Tormund and wondered if he would have burned the city and the people as she did. The fact that he couldn’t say yes or no was enough to make him doubt his decision. “Tyrion,” was all he said. Tormund nodded, being well versed in the events that led up to assassination. “What hurts the most is that my sister betrayed me. And for the life of me I cant help but think that this was a part of her plan to ensure the North remained independent and she became its Queen” . The last words were said with such vitriol it almost shocked Jon. Almost. But he knew Sansa Knew exactly what would happen if his secret got out, and despite her oath, she told Tyrion anyway. His sister, schooled by Cersei, Littlefinger and Olenna Tyrell. They had all played the Game Of Thrones, but somehow overlooked the most cunning player.  
Jon spat on the dirt floor of his modest hut. He looked around at his humble surroundings. Thinking he deserved less. Death would be too good for him. But how he longed for the release of death. No more guilt, no more pain and no more sorrow. Everyday he awoke to realize that no, this wasn’t a dream, and he was alone in this world. Tormund made his way to the door “If you change your mind, you know where to find me. At the biggest fire with a big woman on my lap. She’s not Brienne but she will do.” With a wink of an eye and an arched brow Tormund cast one more look at jon and walked out. Despite his melancholy, the corners of jons mouth turned up a little. He got up to add more wood to the fire and as he did so he caught the gleam of steel on his modest bed roll. I could end this now. He thought. Shaking his head he gathered his cloak to go find a fight or a fuck. Not willing to end his suffering just yet.  
Finding the latter, he and the girl were back in his hut. He didn’t know her name, nor did he care. He just needed relief and respite. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered. She giggled playfully thinking that this was some game. She started to remove her furs slow and seductively. Shaking his head, he moved towards her. He roughly ripped the remaining breeches and small clothes from her body. The girl let out a surprised squeal. Not knowing if this was a game or if he intended to handle her roughly. She looked into his eyes and they were inky black. Like staring into an abyss. He yanked her hair hard, and she cried out in pain or pleasure, it mattered not to him. He pushed her onto the bedroll and he sensed some apprehension in her. But before his conscience or his damned honor could get in the way he pulled down his breeches and spit into his hand, using that to lubricate his cock. He looked in her eyes which were wide as saucers and sheathed himself in one hard stroke. His hips found a rhythm that was brutal and relentless. Her cries melded with the slap of flesh against flesh and he lost himself. Soon he didn’t hear her cries.  
He heard nothing as he pounded her into the bedroll. He felt nothing as he pounded her into oblivion. All at once he felt something. His release starting in his stones and tightening in his belly. He withdrew and spread his seed on her back and rolled onto his side. He felt her nudge closer to him, seeking comfort and warmth after being used so violently. He sat up abruptly. “Thank you. You can go”. He said. She sat stunned for a moment. But said nothing as she gathered her clothing. “Should I dress here m’lord or is my presence so offensive that I should dress in the snows?” she challenged. He sighed. “I’m good for nothing and no one. A dead man walking. Dress here but do so quickly, for your own sake,” with that he turned to face the wall. As she left and he was alone once more, the tears finally came.  
“Dany. I’m sorry.”He cried until his head ached and his throat hurt. Finally sleep came, and so did the dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is Jons POV and it is DARK. He's struggling with his actions and he feels manipulated. At this point this isnt jon from Canon, nor is this an anti Jon fic. However I want to explore his darker possibilities, how he grieves and how he reconciles his honor with his heart. I hope you enjoy. Take it easy on me, I'm new to this. lol!


	3. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany's POV. A quick flashback to the events of directly after her resurrection as I felt it deserved an honorable mention without bogging down the current timeline.

Empty. That’s how she felt. Emptiness. That’s all she felt. Six moonturns since The Betrayal- what she called the events that led to her death and exile- found her near bursting with the promise of life. It was ironic how the man she loved above all others took everything she thought she wanted and left her with something she always yearned for. But it meant nothing now. She was empty. She could still feel how elated she became when he finally returned her affections. She could still feel his knife pierce her heart. She wore his betrayal on her body and carried it in her soul. The life growing inside her seemed to sense her distress because at that moment, she felt her babe twist and turn and stretch her belly. She looked around and took in her surroundings. Far from humble, but not fit for a Queen either. A tear slipped down her cheek. Queen of nothing, maybe the ashes perhaps. The seven Kingdoms were lost to her now. No Dothraki or unsullied, one dragon and no gold. She was truly alone in the world.  
She rose with some effort and made her way to her chamber pot to break water, again. A blessing labor pains would be, she thought. It seemed all she did was waddle and piss. Piss and waddle. And cry. She did a lot of that lately. Not as much as she had when she had first awoken from her slumber of death. But the tears came unbidden and without warning, and the nights were the worst. Dreamless nights were rare for her. She would close her eyes and see him. Tears in his eyes and anguish on his face as he stabbed her. Or she would close her eyes and hear the bells and see the Red keep Looming atop Aegons Hill.  
She lived her life with no regrets knowing that if she looked back she would be lost, but she couldn’t help but feel shame and regret at the loss of innocent life and destruction at her behest. After replaying that day, time and time again, she still could not explain why she did what she did. She could not explain her detachment after the fact either. Even in the aftermath, it was as if she was just outside her body, watching , but not a part of the events. She yawned and Her mind wandered for a bit before she finally dozed.  
The bells. And chanting. The chanting was distant at first, but grew louder.  
Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon.  
We ask the Lord to shine his light, and lead a soul out of darkness.  
Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon.  
We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out.  
Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson.  
From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.  
She could feel herself becoming more conscious. The chants got louder as the bells faded. All of a sudden she felt. Her limbs were stiff and heavy, and opening her eyes seemed a struggle. Her throat felt as if she drank fire and her lips were dry and cracked. She tried to speak but couldn’t. She did manage to open her eyes. Slowly her vision cleared and she took in her surroundings. A young woman and strange man stood above her with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Right before her roared a great fire and in front of the fire lay a red priestess. She tried to sit up and was stopped by an exploding pain on the left side of her chest. She brought her arm to the source of the pain and found the flesh jagged and torn.  
The memories came flooding back. The battle, the Red Keep, the fire and destruction of Kings’ Landing and the Throne Room. The final memory caused her to cry out in grief but all she managed was a strangled whisper. “I was dead. He killed me. How am I here?” She asked her saviors, or were they her jailors? She didn’t know.  
She had to get drogon and go back. She would end them all with Fie and Blood. Her blood ran hot and her hurt ran deep. She would have vengeance or die trying. The man in red looked at her with what she thought was pity and said “ The lord of light chose to light your fire again. Will you spend this gift destroying, or using the gift he gave you?” The truth of his words hit her like a warhammer and she couldn’t control the laughter that croaked from her body. They must think me a madwoman, but how ironic is it that this is one more thing he and I have in common? She thought. The red priest must have sensed her thoughts. “My child,” he began as she sharply cut him off “It is Your Grace, Priest.” She may be weak and newly returned from the land of the dead, but she was Daenerys of house Targaryen, and he would know it. “I know who you are my child,” he said stubbornly. “But if you wish to live, if you wish for the babe you carry to live, you can be queen of nothing and no one. Let Daenerys of House Targaryen remain dead to those who would do her harm.”  
She woke with a start. Another dream. She dreamt of her first moments among the living often. Reliving the shock and confusion almost daily. The days that followed that one went by so slowly. She spent every minute of every day in agony. She screamed until her throat was raw and could scream no more. She cried and cried until all the water left her body and her eyes were as dry as sand. She refused food and only took sips of water to ease the fire in her throat. She lay in the chamber of the Red Temple, in darkness wasting away, while the babe in her belly stubbornly thrived and grew despite her aversion to the seed of the man who took everything from her.  
She felt her body changing and accommodating this person that she thought she despised. Until she felt a flutter. All at once and much to her dismay, her heart opened to this child. She had wanted to die. Sometimes she wanted to fly Drogon to Winterfell and burn it down with all those who dwelled inside. She wanted to fly above Kings landing and set it on fire again and hoped that Tyrion would know it was her coming for him. She wanted to Kill jon, but she hoped he was dead already. By his own hand or by the hand of those who were still loyal to her. So many what ifs, and they all led her here, to a moderate suite of rooms within the Red Temple.  
She came back to the present, tiring of the painful memories of the past. The baby kicked and it seemed like his or her little limbs were everywhere at once. Blood of my blood, she thought as she stroked her belly. She stood up and waddled to the large window of her chamber to watch the sunset. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. She sighed and made her way to the bed in the middle of the spacious room. She lay her head upon the pillow and wished misery to Jon Snow, wherever he may be. 

*  
A soft knock sounded on her door. “Enter,” she bid. The novice priestess entered. My lady, there is a caller for you,” she said as she awaited further instructions from Daenerys. Her mind raced, as cold dread creeped into her. No one knows I’m alive. Which one of these fire worshippers has betrayed me. Her eyes darted from the novice to the door. Knowing she could not defend herself in this state. She resigned herself to die, as she had nothing save the babe to live for, without any means to feed it save the charity of these priests, who she thought finally betrayed her. She steeled herself for the inevitable. She would not beg for mercy She would die on her feet. “Send him in” she said as she stood.  
The door opened and she lifted her chin and straightened her back, regal to the end.  
“So. The Queen of Dragons has one Dragon, no army, no kingdom, no husband and a swollen belly. You really should have taken me with you, since all the dwarfs clever little plans have clearly gone to shit,” he said.  
That voice. The smugness and cockiness was enough to make her scream. But she held her composure and regarded him with poorly concealed contempt. She said nothing and learned a lot by letting him talk.  
“When I heard of your adventures across the Narrow Sea I thought ‘this is it’ you were doing what you set out to do. And I was happy for you. And happy to keep the peace in your city. No one said ruling as easy. But I stayed in that pyramid for you.” He paused and looked her square in the eye. “ I wasn’t even worth a raven. You just left without a second thought to the people you left behind. I was just a means to an end. The people a school lesson for you to learn how to rule. But tell me Your grace, how did that work for you?” he quieted as he said the last words.  
She saw the pain in his eyes. “I would do it all again. And I’ll not beg for my life. Do what you came to do and be done with it,” she said proudly. A dark look passed Daario Naharis’ face. And then he barked a loud laugh. “Gods. Is that why you think I’ve come here, Your Grace? I’ve not come to kill you, but save you from this penitent existence,” and he continued to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the slippery sellsword has somehow tracked down his Dragon Queen. How he did it will be explained later, but he presents several possibilities for Dany.


	4. The Broken Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back with Jon and his woe as me ass.

Jon lay on his bedroll staring at the thatched roof, listening to the small settlement come alive around him. He groaned inwardly as he stood up. He walked over to his table and broke the thin layer of ice on the water and used it to splash his face. He donned his fur and stepped outside. The northern air bit his lungs as he drew in the first breath and he started to make his way to the only weirwood tree. This was the reason he convinced Tormund to settle this area. He wanted the comfort of his Gods. Much good they’ve done him thus far.

He walked the short path, hoping to avoid Tormund and the accusatory look his eyes held for him often as of late. He finally reached the clearing where the weirwood sat. It wasn’t   very tall, nor was there a face carved on it, but the red leaves and the contrast of the stark white  bark was familiar and reminded him of home.

He sat with his back to the tree and shut his eyes. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to sit here. His thoughts swam for a few moments more as he willed them away. He focused on two pulsating flecks behind his eyelids. He wasn’t sure where thy cam from or what they meant, but he felt them. He began to feel warm as the flecks burned brighter and could hear the rhythm of their pulsating in his ears. _Odd,_ he thought. At that, the flecks got smaller until they burned away and he was left with an image of Dany in his minds eye.

At the vision of her his heart broke again, and at that moment he decided that death would be the only way out of this shit life he’d fashioned for himself.  He reached into a fold of his fur and retrieved a study hemp rope. _Aye. This should do nicely._ He stood and walked around the tree, testing branches to see what would hold his weight. Finding one, he went about the business of tying his noose. _Monarch killer I am. A king dies this day, and everyone is better for it._ He thought on all the battles he’d fought for survival. Not only his survival, but for that of the realm. All the men he’d killed, just to take his own life. _I’m no bleeding poet, but eve I can’t deny the poetry in that. Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, dead by his own hand._ He would have laughed if his heart wasn’t so heavy.

            As he climbed the tree with the noose around his neck, he thought of Arya and Bran and how he would never see them again. He wondered if they would ever find out about his death, and if they did, would they grieve? He thought of Sansa and felt a twisting in his gut as he thought about her betrayal. He loved her still. He thought of Sam and Gilly and their new babe. Probably creeping by now and shed a tear. Tormund crossed his mind and he could hear him cursing his name for this foolish act. But he jumped anyway.

            He struggled for air and cursed himself. It was a poor knot. He expected his neck to break. Instead he swung struggling and stinking of piss and shit. He thought he wanted to die, but he struggled to live as the field of his vision slowly faded to black. Before he lost consciousness, he thought he saw a blur of red in the distance.

                                                                           *

_He was flying. Up and up and away from the clearing where the weirwood sat. Up and up and south and then east. Something was pulling him across the Narrow Sea. The landscape went by in a blur as he flew over Westeros and went further east. All of a sudden he saw her. Heavy with child, and alone at a window. Her eyes were puffy but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on._

_He knew he was dead. Seeing her like this, full of life made his heart swell. This wasn’t the nothing he saw the last time he died, this was everything he found himself wanting since meeting her, he called out to her but she didn’t hear him._

_He went back the way he came. Wondering if he could find his father or Robb here. Or his mother. Back west and north he went. He heard distant but familiar voices as he got closer to the clearing. And then_

            `He gasped and coughed. His hand went to his throat and winced at the pain of the raw skin and bruised muscles underneath. “You’re a mad fuck. King Cunt,” Tormund growled. “Of all the shit ways to die, that’s how you choose to go?” He continued to shout. “You don’t get to die unless there’s a blade in your hand, you don’t get to die unless someone kills you. If it wasn’t for the wolf you’d surely be dead. At his words Jon turned and saw ghost sitting by his bed roll. He met the wolfs eyes and there was a question, several questions in them. Looking at Ghost, he felt shame and the need to end his life again as he shunned the wolf since reuniting with him. Not feeling himself worthy of love. Face aflame with shame, he turned his back to face the wall.

It was too painful. Ghost reminded him of everything that he was and wanted to be, and everything he was not. And yet, he saved him. He didn’t deserve the blind devotion Ghost showed him. The tears came flooding to his eyes and his body shook uncontrollably. Before long, his body was wracked with guttural screams. Everything he felt over the past eight years came out of him in waves. Father, Robb, Rickon even Lady Catelyn. Ygritte, another woman he had helped to kill, his betrayal at the wall, and finally this It was too much. There was no room left inside for him to hold it in anymore. His cries rent the air and tore through every person standing in the small hut.

            Tormund gave a look to the other men that meant leave or death would follow. When they left he sat down next to jon and placed a hand on his back, but said nothing. He stayed that way for what seemed like hours until he finally settled down. He removed his hand and made to leave. ‘Stay,” Jon croaked out. It was barely above a whisper but it stopped Tormund dead in his tracks as if he had shouted the word. Tormund turned and looked upon the broken man on the bedroll, and sighed as he sat down beside him again.

            “Was wondering when you would finally lose your shit King Cunt. Not talking. Using these women rough, and beating men near dead. I figured you ere trying to get someone to kill you as you were too craven to do it yourself. But no, that’s not your way is it. Showed me, didn’t you?” He spat.

            Jon could feel the anger simmering in Tormund, so he finally sat up to meet his eyes. It was the least he could do. “Aye, Tormund. I courted death every day. I taunted the men, but none could beat me. I used the women, but I don’t feel good abut that. I feel sick at the thought, but I am sick. I’m dying inside or I’ve already died, and I don’t know how to stop it, or what to do.” His voice was getting thick again as he felt the sting of tears in his eyes once more. “I regret it, Tormund. Every minute of every day, I regret it and I just wished someone would put me out my misery,” he drew in a ragged breath and continued. “But I struggled Tormund, I realized too late that I didn’t want to die. But I can’t keep living like this either.” With an arched eyebrow Tormund released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Well king Snow, what will you do?” Jon thought back to the two sparks of life he felt. That was the only way to describe it. The pulsating reminded him of a heartbeat, but they weren’t in sync. He thought of the vision he had of Daenerys when he thought he was dead. “I don’t know, but I need to get word to Bran somehow. I think I had a vision.” He finished.

            Tormund regarded him for a moment, “doesn’t surprise me, I had you for a warg a long time ago. I noticed sometimes when you slept, that wolf of yours was acting bloody human,” he barked and clapped him soundly on the back. “You’ll not get rid of me that easy though, Snow. This is now ‘our’ hut. Cant have you killing yourself in a bout of brooding before we start this next adventure can we? And what the hell did you see anyway?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so some folk don't like my Jon and I don't particularly care. It's called character development and since season 8 saw jon as a one dimensional character, I figured I'd give him a few layers. If you haven't run away yet, Thank you for reading and keep the comments coming. I want them all. Good and bad. Initially I was going to do all POVs as Jon and Dany but now I'm fiddling with the idea of including bran and arya POV. Let me now if thats something you would like to see!


	5. Dany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Dany chapter. I decided not to POV any other characters besides Jon and dany, opting instead to explore the other characters from their perspectives.

She was exhausted. The babe seemed to sap the strength from her. All she wanted to do was lie in bed and not think of the man who had come to call upon her. The birds, and sunlight filtering through the window hangings has other plans. A sharp kick to her bladder spurred her out of bed to her chamber pot.

     If I didn’t know any better I’d say this child has it out for me, she thought as she relieved herself. She finished and rang the bell to summon the novice to her chamber. While she waited she tidied herself and put on simple linen shift that showed her swelling belly and full breasts.   
     She tried to keep busy while she waited to keep her mind off Daario and his potential motives. They talked late into the evening and she had learned that under his direction, the cities she liberated had remained independent and they thrived. He told her that the second sons under his command were willing to sail across the sea and take back what was hers. Her offered her conquest and vengeance. She declined.   
     She realized at some point during their conversation, that that’s not she wanted. The twists and turns in her belly lit a fire in her. But not one of conquest. She longed to see her child. To hold him or her and to be what she never had as a child. She wanted to be a mother, not a queen. She wanted her own house, a garden and peace. Maybe Ilil plant a lemon tree and paint the door red, she thought.   
    A knock jarred her from her thoughts. “Enter,” she called out. “You called Your Grace?” The novice and acolytes had insisted upon calling her “m’lady” and she would not respond. She had no kingdom, but by blood and birth she was Queen. The blood of old Valeria flowed through her veins, beaten or not. “ I wish to break my fast, and see that Daario Naharis is brought to me,” she commanded. The novice bowed her head and shut the door as she left.   
    Some time later the novice returned, rolling tray in tow and on it a small feats of boiled eggs, brown bread and fresh fruit. She served herself some fruit and ate sparingly. The growing babe taking up most of the room leaving none for food. As she nibbles on a piece of sweet melon, Daario was brought in. “My Queen,” he bowed graciously. She said nothing, regarding him Cooley. She would make him wait on his knees as it pleases her. “Rise,Daario Naharis,” as she said the words she couldn’t help a small smirk ghosting the corners of her lips.   
    He straightened and she saw he was slightly annoyed. He wasn’t the best at hiding his feelings. His eyes moved to her belly and for a brief moment she could see anger or jealousy cloud his eyes. “Won’t be much longer, I suspect” he said. Instinctively her hands went to her babe and held the bump close. “No. One more moonturn, maybe less if my size is any indication,” she sighed. He shuffled on his feet. “You May sit if you please,” she said motioning to the remaining chair.

     He sat and helped himself to the food. He eyed her when he thought she wasn’t looking as he ate. Finally he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. “What is it?” She asked.             He regarded her for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I still hold the cities in your name. Say the word and we can leave here and go back to Mereen,” he paused and looked at her longingly, “together.”   
     She said nothing, thinking of what it would be like to rule once more. She shook her head. “No. I will find a house and live a simple life.” Daario let out the breath he had been holding and chuckled softly. If she wasn’t looking directly at him she would have missed it. “So the mother of dragons wishes to be a good wife, cooking, cleaning and tending to her gardens?” He said under an arched eyebrow.   
     She felt her temper rising, “ I don’t think you understand. They plotted against me and convinced the father of my child to kill me.” Her eyes watered and tears threatened to escape. She collected herself and continued. “They have spies everywhere, how long do you think it would take for an assassins blade to find me, or my child if word got back to Westeros that I had managed to survive?” Her tone became as hard and cold as ice. “You still haven’t told me how you found me,” she said.   
“You’re not safe here. There were whispers in mereen of a dragon attacking the temple here. And a silver haired woman miraculously returning from the dead.” He continued, “Those who wish to kill you may already know you’re still alive. Come with me. We don’t have to go to mereen, but let me protect you.” He paused and choked out “And the child.”   
When he acknowledged her child the dam broke and the tears came. She shook with the pain of betrayal and a lost love and the thought of raising a fatherless child. She felt his hard calloused hand close around hers, and she let it remain there, allowing herself to take the small comfort he offered. “ why do you wish to help me?” She asked. Here was the man she left behind after his declaration of love and she felt nothing when she did. She didn’t even think of him after that day. Why would he help me after I left him? What does he want?.  
“Because I love you” he said. They sat that way for a while before she finally agreed. “I will go, but I’m too heavy with child to make any journey, so I will remain here until the child is born.” She waited for his response. “It would be easier for me to protect one vulnerable person as opposed to two, but you’re right. You wouldn’t be able to run if need be. So you stay. I will go and find a suitable house for a queen in exile and make the travel arrangements. The taxes are rolling in and you’re still quite wealthy Your Grace.”   
He stood up and bowed graciously. When he straightened he met her eyes and smiled, tipping his head. As he turned to leave, she called out “Daario?” He turned back to her expectantly “Yes?” He asked. “Hurry back, I don’t wish to be alone,” she looked down, slightly ashamed of her vulnerability, “when my time comes.” She pleaded. “You’ll never be alone again,” and with that he left, leaving her sad, confused and a little hopeful.

The days passed in a monotonous routine that threatened to drive Dany stir crazy. Everyday she woke, washed, ate and slept. Her bouts of crying became fewer and fewer but the pain and uncertainty was still there.   
Her chambers became a madhouse of activity with the preparations for her lying in and her journey. Daario sent several correspondences, some detailing how much gold she had at her disposal, others were about trade goods and their value, everything a sitting monarch should know. She didn’t really care she just wanted to ensure her survival, and she needed resources to do so.  
A crude sketch of a house slipped from among the many papers of Daarios latest dispatch. She looked over the sketch and couldn’t help the smile. It was a sprawling house set in a compound with a large courtyard and spacious yard.   
A modest home, fit for a queen and her babe was scrawled at the bottom in his crude handwriting. She held the paper to her chest and couldn’t help but feel a little warmth at the thought of a home and her baby, and even Daario living out their lives peacefully.  
But He didn’t really fit or belong. She didn’t love him, she didn’t feel anything for him besides familiarity. She still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him and she couldn’t throw him very far. Her guard was up, the wall around her heart back in place. Every time she saw him, he looked at her longingly and expectantly. She couldn’t flat out deny him, for fear of him betraying her out of spite, nor could she let him in. It was a game of will and feminine wiles that she would play to ensure her survival. And she would play it well.   
She sat down at her desk and began to write a reply to Daario when she felt the familiar tightening of her belly that were false labor pains. She recalled the Dothraki women telling her this was her body’s way of getting ready for the birth. Another painless tightening gripped her belly and her hand was there, softly stroking. Soon, little dragon, she thought. Soon. I wonder what you will look like, raven or silver hair? Violet or dark brown eyes? Her thoughts of Jon’s features on her babe made her heart ache and she swallowed the thickness building in her throat. A raven caw broke her out of her reverie. As she looked up her breath caught in her throat as she saw the raven. And his white eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off i wanna give a big thanks to the readers for your supportive comments. You guys are motivation to get these chapters out! Keep the comments coming. I love the feedback, good or bad. It really helps with writing.   
> So we see how desperate and lonely Dany is. She’s currently living off charity, and Daario comes to her rescue: are his actions purely for her benefit or is there some self serving motivation? We shall see.


	6. We're Off To See The Wizard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tormund arrive in Kings' Landing to get some intel on his visions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I know I'm posting these chapters extremely quick. But I fell as if there's a muse whispering in my ear. This story is consuming my most parts of my day. I already had 4 chapters completely written before I published and i had a rough outline of 3 additional chapters, but i scrapped the outline as the charachters are just doing what they want to do as this story has taken on a life of it's on. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as im enjoying the process of stringing words together to weave this tale!

          The city had come a long way since he was here last. It still smelled of overpopulation and refuse, but it was much improved from the pile of rubble and ash Daenerys left in her wake. All around him buildings sat in various states of repair or demolition, a testament to the new administration. As he walked, he noticed a new sewage system ran along the cobblestones. _Tyrion,_ he thought darkly. For all his plotting and scheming, the dwarf made an excellent administrator, Jon conceded. Tyrion was the last person he wanted to see, but knew it was probably unavoidable.

            They had come to the city square, which was bustling with midmorning activity. Merchants hawked their wares, street vendors offered food and produce, and the inns were near to bursting. King’s Landing thrived with Bran The Broken and his small council in control. _It could have been us, had I not been strung along like a puppet,_ he thought darkly.

            “What the fuck are you brooding about you surly cunt?” Tormund asked. Jon could hear the amusement in his voice, but it irritated him all the same. He turned in the saddle to tell him to fuck off but he spotted the banners of House Stark and knew that His brother, The All Seeing Three Eyed Raven knew of his arrival and must have sent an escort. He spurred his mount forward ignoring Tormund.

            “Prince Jon,” Brienne greeted him. With a hint of affection in her eyes. “I’m glad your travels were unencumbered, and you arrived safely. Please allow us to escort you to the Red Keep,” she said. “Aye, an escort is welcome, but I’m no prince Ser Brienne,” Jon replied. “The brother of the King is in fact a prince Your Grace,” she countered with a slight smile playing on her lips.

            Jon took in the sight of the imposing woman. A conventional beauty by no means, but she was magnificent in her bearing, and could best many a man if need be, so he pushed no further. He heard a sigh to his left and chuckled. Tormund had been taken with Brienne at first sight and still held a torch for his “Big Woman”.

            “Hello my Lady Knight. It has been too long. Have you missed me as I’ve missed you?’ He asked desperately. Brienne huffed and rolled her eyes looking to Podrick who had a knowing smile on his lips. “It is good to see you Tormund, Killed any Giants lately?” She replied. Tormund threw his head back and barked a laugh that was loud enough to quiet the marketplace, for a moment. Once the people saw that no commotion was going on, they went about the business of commerce and barter. “No beauty, I have not, but maybe we can talk of my adventures over a cup of ale,” he said. Brienne shook her head.

            “Your grace, your brother anxiously awaits your arrival. We should make way,” at that Brienne turned her mount with Podrick following and they proceeded through the city.

            Along the way Jon and Podrick made smalltalk while Tormund harassed Brienne. As they drew closer to what remained of the Keep, Jons’ stomach started to flip flop. He was nervous. He had no idea what to expect and what Bran would tell him. He just wanted this visit to be over, so he could find some sort of closure. _I want to know what those visions mean, once I get that information, we can head back North._

            He was weary, near two weeks of hard riding, so hard that by days end, their mounts were lathered and tired. They had to change horses several times as Jon set a grueling pace. So grueling that Tormund who usually endured whatever with crass humor and undignified laughs, was complaining and surly at the end of every day. But Jon was relentless. He would not waver in reaching his destination, even through sheets of rain and freezing temperatures, but The further south they went, the climate got a bit warmer. Signaling an early spring. He was glad for it. This winter, short as it was, had devastated Westeros.

            Jon snapped out of his thoughts when they reached the gates of the Keep, already open in anticipation of the wayward prince. Jon took it all in as he struggled to blot out his last memory of this place. His brother and his advisors were in the courtyard ready to receive them. “It’s good to see you Jon,” Bran said. Jon dismounted and kneeled before Bran. “Your Grace, it is good to see you as well,”.       

      Jon stood to greet the remaining advisors. “Ser Bronn,’ he said with a nod, “My Lord” he said to Gendry, the Master of War with an arm embrace. “Ser Davos” and he made to grasp his hand, but the old man gathered him up in a bear hug and clapped his back. He held on to Jon for a moment longer and stood back from him. “You look hale, and I’m glad for it. I worry for you, every day. Like a son you are to me you know it?”

      Davos had a plain way of speaking that comforted Jon. He missed the old man. He felt his eyes burn and his throat tighten, but he quickly gathered his emotions and continued down the line. “Grand Maester” he said to Sam. They shared an embrace which Jon broke first. He stepped back and looked him over. “The chain suits you,” he said with a wry smile. “I suppose it does,” Sam said humbly.

     Jon came to the last person left to greet and looked down. “Lord Tyrion,” he said coldly as his jaw flexed. Tyrion visibly gulped and offered Jon his hand to shake, which hung there. Finally, he let his hand drop with a sigh. “I trust you want rest and food after your journey. Come into the keep and you will be shown to your chambers and fed,” Tyrion said as he turned on his heel and walked further into the courtyard. 

     Their horses were taken by a stable boy and Jon fell in step with Podrick who wheeled Bran. ‘So, I guess you know why I’m here then” he said. Bran turned to look at him “I do,” he said in that empty tone Jon hated so much. “I don’t want to dance around and play this game. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk. I would like Sam and Davos there. But no one else,” he said. “Pod take us to the small council room, Ser Davos and Samwell will follow as well, no one else,” He commanded.

   “This suits you,” Jon acknowledged grudgingly. “What?” Bran asked. “Ruling.” Was all Jon said in response.

     As they walked Jon took stock of the castle. Some walls were untouched by the destruction of that day. Others told a different story. There were entire sections of the castle missing ceilings, pillars and walls. Other places stone had ben melted and it looked as if the walls were weeping. He still couldn’t believe that after all Dany endured to get here, she would lay waste to it. _She was broken and alone. This is my fault. I’m just as responsible as she for the death and destruction that day._ He lost himself in his thoughts for a while until they arrived at the small council chamber.

    Podrick wheeled Bran to the head of the table and left the room while the others took seats. “Do you mind telling us why you rode like a man possessed, Your Grace?” Davos asked as he took his seat. Jon didn’t know what to say. He went over it many times and no mater how he said it, it still sounded mad. “I believe Bran could tell you better than I. But before you do Bran, I need everyone here to keep these words in this chamber. Oaths are fickle things it seems, that or the men who make them,” he said bitterly.

     “Jon, you know me, and I’ve never broken faith with you yet,” Sam said. “I’ll not break faith with you on this day nor any other day. You have my word as your sworn brother,” he finished. Jon looked to Davos. “If you need me to say it then I think the cold got into your head, and froze your good sense. You’re not above a cuffing about the ears and if you suggest that I would betray you, I _will_ cuff you about the ears,” he said. Jon smiled at that. _Leave it to Davos to speak sense in a senseless situation._ He thought. Davos looked to Bran “Well get on with it already,” forgetting his manners Davos hastily added “Your Grace,” to the end of the sentence with a contrite smile.

     Bran looked at everyone in turn before he began to speak. Measuring his words carefully. “Jon tried to kill himself,” he started. Jon winced at the sharp intake of air that came from Sam’s direction. “Why- “Sam began but was cut off by Jon , “Let him finish Sam.”  
 Bran continued. “Jon tried to kill himself because he was grieving. Grieving the woman he loved, the man he was, and all that he had lost,” He cleared his throat and continued. “Before he attempted to kill himself, he saw twin flames of life, and after he had tried, he was somewhere between life and death, and he saw her,” Bran scanned the faces in the room before he pressed on. “He’s here to make sense of his visions,” he finished.

     Jon looked to Sam whose eyes were wide. Davos uttered an “Oh fuck ,” and just stared at the table, unsure of what to say.

    Jon was unsettled. _He knows all of this, but he didn’t know that Rhaegal would be shot from the sky and Missandei captured and killed? He didn’t foresee Sansas’ plotting and what the revelation of my parentage would do to her?_

“Bran,” he called quietly. Too quietly it seemed. The anger thrummed through his veins and it felt as if he had fire for blood. “Yes brother,” he answered. “Tell me again, because I’m still unclear. You can see everything, but you didn’t foresee the events that led to the destruction of this city and death of thousands, the woman I loved among them? Tell me how you were ignorant of Sansa and Tyrions’ plotting. Because I need to understand how your _inaction_ can be interpreted as anything other than an orchestrated act of tyranny to seize power in a time of chaos” Jon thundered as he slammed his fist on the table at the last word.

    “Chaos is a ladder,” he responded coldly. At those words, everyone turned to look at Bran with new eyes. “When the snow falls and the cold winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Sansa would have never ceded the North to her Jon, and you know that. Dany would not rule anything less than Seven Kingdoms and you knew that as well. I had a choice. A foreign queen, or my sister. I chose my blood.” He said those words and looked directly at Jon.

    “Aye, you chose your blood, and I thought I chose mine, but Dany was my blood too. And you let them exile me for it,” he spat. Bran thought for a moment. “I did. To avoid another war, brother. To save your life. Had you not gone beyond the wall, you would have been killed,” he said calmly.

    “What good is life if you have nothing to live for?” Jon asked dejectedly. “But you do have something to live for,” Bran countered. “She lives.”

   His words struck Jon like a sword blow to the gut. All at once the air left his lungs and he felt sick. He turned and vomited the meager contents of his stomach to the floor. He sat up and dragged a shaking hand across his mouth. “How? How is that possible? My blade pierced her heart. I aimed true, I felt her heart stop and watched her die. How?” He asked as his emotions threatened to overcome him.

    Bran looked at him. “which direction did Drogon fly off with Daenerys’ body Jon?” Bran asked, but before he let him answer, he continued. “How is it that you were brought back from the dead? Drogon took her east, The Red Temple of R’hllor is to the East in Volantis. The priests and priestesses harness the power of life and death. You asked how. That is how. The why I don’t know. But she lives. I saw her.” He looked Jon square in the eye before he put the final nail in the coffin. “And your child.” He finished.

    All at once it was as if all the air in the room was sucked out. Everyone looked to Bran and then to Jon. Dumbfounded expressions on their faces, with no words. Jon’s head swam and his vision faded to black as he teetered over and fell to the floor with a hard thud.

 

____________________________________________________________

    He came to in Sam’s’ chambers. “Easy now,” Sam said as he pushed him back down on the bed. “You had a nasty fall and nearly knocked yourself senseless. I expect you’d have to retch in a moment,” Sam clucked. Jon doubted it. He spilled everything in his stomach at hearing Dany was still alive. But sure enough his stomach heaved, and although there was nothing to come up, his stomach muscles heaved anyway.

    “Bran wanted to know when you awoke because he has more to tell you. I will be back shortly,” Sam said as he hurried out of the room.

 _She’s alive, and pregnant. She was pregnant when I- Oh Gods. I killed her with my babe in her belly. I have to find her. I have to make to make it right or die trying. I would gladly fall by her sword if she would let me. I need to find a way to get to her somehow._  He lamented internally.

    He remembered the last time they made love. He wondered at the subtle change in her breasts then but being a simple man thought nothing of it. _She had to have been pregnant at the waterfall_ he thought. He counted and estimated she was near to give birth in two- or three-weeks’ time if his math was correct. He had no time for this. It would take almost a month to travel to Essos by sea. They would have to circumvent Old Valyria to avoid the stone men kept there. Then travel by land from the port city to Volantis by his estimate would be another week or so. He had to leave now.

    Bran had known the entire time that she was alive. He had no idea if Sansa or Tyrion knew of this, and she was in danger. At that thought, the door opened, and Sam wheeled Bran into the chamber.

    “Who did you tell of Dany’s survival Bran?” Bran looked at him and said nothing for a few moments. Instead of answering his question he just put his head down. When he looked up, Jon thought he saw a flicker of the old Bran in his eyes. “Dragons are intelligent creatures. Some say more so than men. The dragons of Old Valyria were bonded to those with Valyrian blood. If you call him he will come” he said.

     “BRAN!” Jon shouted, “Who. Did. You. Tell.” Bran avoided his gaze. “Call him Jon, before it’s too late,” he almost pleaded.

   Right after Jon’s’ exile, he searched for Drogon. He found him and when he did he saw Dany alive and well. He had no idea she was pregnant. “Jon you have to understand that when I learned of her survival, I saw her as a threat. But the more I watched her I learned that she no longer wanted to rule,” He avoided Jon’s gaze. “My ravens that I sent haven’t returned and I fear its too late to take back what I set in motion. The child she carries is also my blood. A part of the pack and it’s up to you to save them now.” He said.

    “Bran, by the Gods if you don’t tell me who knows of her existence, another King will die this day,” He said it so quietly that the blood in Sam’s veins went cold. He looked at Jon with an expression filled with dread, and unfamiliarity. He didn’t know this Jon. And he was afraid for his King.

   Bran looked at him. “I told No One,” he said. Jon’s stomach dropped and his blood ran cold because he knew exactly what that meant. “Seven fucking hells,” he shouted to no one in particular.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it folks. Jon uncovered the true motives behind Bran and Sansa's actions, there may be a reckoning at some point. But at the end of this chapter, Jon's numero uno priority is getting to Dany before No one does. Please if you're enjoying this story, drop a comment and if you hate this story leave a comment as well.


	7. Have You Seen Her Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Table setting interlude, not a full chapter.

     A girl was conflicted, but she had her orders. Verify, watch and eliminate is what she was told. A girl had been busy sailing west when a raven found her ship with a scroll. The message it contained unsettled her.

_Sister, we need you There are whispers to the East of a woman with silver hair and amethyst eyes who has been resurrected. Find out if these whispers are true words. Watch her closely and eliminate her if it’s the her we think she is._

_Your Brother_

_Brandon Stark, King of the Six Kingdoms._

A girl read the message over and over and still could not make sense of the words. She had to protect the pack, so, sense or no, she had her captains steer her ship East.

   It was definitely Daenerys. But she was changed. The Queen of nothing, without allies or wealth. This was a broken women. And a girl didn’t take any joy in killing broken things. When she saw her belly starting to swell a girl sent a raven but didn’t get one back, so she was unsure of how to proceed. If a girls brother wanted her dead, she would do it, reluctantly but it would get done. A girl wasn’t the best at figures, but if her estimate was correct, and she was quite sure it was, then that was Jon’s child she carried. Despite how much she hated Daenerys for what she did, she would not kill her brothers’ child.

       A girl cursed when the bell rang to summon her. She made her way from her chamber down the long hallway in the Red Temple. Finally, she stopped at the door she was summoned to. She knocked softly. “Enter,” a voice called back. “You called, Your Grace?” A girl wearing the novices face asked. “Yes Likenia, I would like some water for a bath. Can you please let the servants know?” Daenerys asked. “At once, Your Grace. Have you a need for anything else?” A girl asked.

     Dany cocked her head and chuckled softly. “Is it too much to ask a priestess to rub these swollen feet?” she asked. A girl laughed. “No Your Grace, I would be happy to do it,” a girl said, and sat down to go about the business of kneading flesh.

 


	8. All The Stars Are Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for the trip East, Drogon forgives Jon and a girl adds a name to her list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I hope you’re still with me. I decided to do multiple POVs this chapter and might continue to do so as it’s hard keeping the timeline accurate. I hope you enjoy!

     “Drogon is just as likely to burn me as he is to let me ride him Sam,” Jon said. They had been in The Chamber of the Grand Maester for near three hours trying to establish a connection with the dragon. Jon didn’t have weeks to get to Essos. He barely had days and this was a desperate attempt, but the only chance they had.  
   “You have the blood of Old Valeria flowing through your veins Jon. You can do it,” Sam said said. Jon furrowed his brow and sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”  
   “Clear your mind and call out to him.” Sam said.  
Jon lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He pictured the dragon in his mind. I don’t know if you can hear or feel me, but I need you now. Your mother needs you, he pleaded inwardly. He felt nothing. They sat there some time in silence and then there was a knock on the door.  
     “Enter,” Sam called out. Gendry rolled in Brans wheeled chair and was followed by Tormund, and Davos. “I believe I can help Jon,”  
   “Aye, you want to help?” Jon sneered. “I believe you’ve done enough”. Bran looked to Davos to help, at which Davos cleared his throat , “ Bran can warg into animals Jon. You best take the help because as you said we don’t have time for this. Right now you need to get to her. And this may be the only way,” he implored him.  
    “You don’t need my permission Your Grace,” he said.  
Brans eyes went white and the room got quiet. Jon looked to Gendry wondering what he was doing here.  
“Lord Baratheon. How is Storms End? “ Jon tried to make small talk to quell the civil war in his stomach. “I suppose it’s well enough,” Gendry started. “ I have spent most of my time here, in the capital, leaving the lording to the castellan. I’ve never really been a lord, besides this is home to me. Always.” He said.  
     Jon nodded in understanding. He knew what it was like to embrace being a bastard only to become something else. “So what are you doing here, now?” Jon asked as he eyed Davos suspiciously. “Davos said you may have need of a good man, and since I swore my loyalty to you, I’m here to do whatever you need done,” he said. Jon looked at him and then to Davos. It amazed him that these people who were not his family, showed him this loyalty, and actually cared.  
     “Gendry, where I’m going I’m not sure if I will survive. I don’t know what awaits me across the sea.” He said.  
Davos stood up. “Don’t be daft. You don’t know what you’re walking into and that’s exactly why you need good men. I’m going with you, so is the lad. You can explain the why and how to him at your pleasure. But we’ll not let you face whatever it is you’re facing alone,” he paused briefly as he held his gaze “We’re family. Maybe not by blood, but by the bonds of war and trauma.” He finished.  
     “King of sorrows, you already knew you had me with you. Til the end if need be.” Tormund said.  
“Jon,” it was Sams turn now. “I’m coming with you too. I don’t think they have Maesters in Essos, and I have a feeling you may be in need of one.” He said.  
   He looked around the men in the room, good men all of them, ready to risk their lives for him. He hoped he was worth it.  
“Gendry, Daenerys is alive, pregnant, and An assassin was sent to kill her.” He said as his gaze settled on Bran.  
Gendrys swallowed and shuffled on his feet for a bit, but looked up. “Well we need to be going then,” he said matter of factly.  
     They anxiously awaited Bran to return to them.  
The nervous energy in the room was oppressive. Jon paced, Sam thumbed through a large tome about dragons, and Gendey and Davos just watched Bran for any signs of movement. Tormund had fallen asleep and his soft snores were the only sounds to be heard.  
    Finally Bran opened his eyes. “He’s on his way,” he said. “You need proper clothes where you’re going brother. The heat of the East is unlike anything you’re accustomed to.” He said while regarding Jon and Tormund.  
     “Samwell, have someone see to the provisions for the journey. When you’ve finished, take this,” he said as he reached into a pocket and handed Sam a scroll, “and give it to the master of coin. You will have need of gold as well as food and clothing.” Sam took the scroll,” At once, Your Grace” and he left the chamber.  
    “When Samwell returns make your way to the dragon pit. Drogon will land there. I will retire to my chamber for a bit and meet you there.” Bran motioned for Gendry and was wheeled out of the room.  
_____________________________________________________

  
      The simple task of turning over in bed became a chore as the babe in her belly stretched her body beyond its limits. If I didn’t know any better I would swear it’s more than one in there, she thought. She threw her legs over the bed and pulled the bell. Getting up was a task she couldn’t manage unassisted either, so she waited patiently for Likenia to come help her to her chamber pot.  
      She heard footsteps approaching and before Likenia could knock she called out for her to enter. She had grown close to the novice. Sometimes inviting her to sit and talk late into the night. She was grateful for the company, but still, Likenia was as a stranger to her.  
     It was in moments like this that she missed Missandei the most. Her quiet demeanor and comforting presence were irreplaceable to Daenerys. At the thought of her friend a few tears escaped and slid down her cheeks.  
     “Your grace, what is it?” Likenia asked. Dany was shook from her melancholy by the sound of her voice. “ Just thinking of those I have lost, but all is well,” she said as she put on an unconvincing smile.  
      She watched as the novice regarded her closely. She shrugged her shoulders and made to help her off the bed. In their time together the novice had begun to anticipate Dany’s needs before she even voiced them. She reminded Dany of someone, as her mannerisms seemed vaguely familiar, but they had met a few months ago. So she thought of it as a coincidence and nothing more.  
     She lumbered to chamber pot and relieved herself. Her night shift clung to her body due to the oppressive heat. It was only early morning, and the heat was almost more than she could bear.  
“It’s so hot,” she remarked. “It is your Grace. Perhaps you should put your hair up. It’s so long and thick. I’m sure you would feel better if it was off your neck and back,” the novice said.  
     Dany thought of how Missandei would braid her hair. Sometimes taking hours to style the intricate victory braids she was known for wearing, and got emotional. As she waddled over to her table, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she thought about everything and everyone she lost.  
     Likenia placed a reluctant hand upon her back until she settled down. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said. Dany sniffed and wiped her eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive. You speak true. I would have shears if you can find them, please,” she said to her.  
     While she waited for Likenia to return, she freshened herself up and gathered her hair to the nape of her neck in a single braid that almost reached her waist. She thought of the battles she won, and the memories were so distant it seemed as if it was another woman in another life.  
     She wondered where Drogon was. She hadn’t seen him in nearly two days and he was so far that she couldn’t feel his presence. He had to be back across the sea, she thought. She sent a quick prayer to whatever Gods were listening that he didn’t go back to exact vengeance on the people of Westeros. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.  
     Likenia returned with the shears. “ You don’t mean to cut it do you?” She asked incredulously. “I mean, it’s just so beautiful.” She said. Dany said nothing as she took the shears from her. This is my first act as I start my new life, she thought as she cut through the thick braid.  
    “When I was 13 my brother sold me to be wed to a Dothraki Khal. The only time they cut their hair is in defeat. I was defeated and no longer entitled to wear this braid,” she explained. “I spent so much time among them, and eventually became Khaleesi of the entire Khalasar. I respect their traditions, and took them as my own.” She finished. The novice looked at her with respect and something else Dany couldn’t name.  
      She tossed the braid onto the table and ran her fingers through the remaining hair, now reaching her chin. She found a looking glass and was surprised that the cut suited her face.  
Just then someone knocked. “Who is it?” Likenia called as she moved to the door. “Daario.” Dany caught dark look that passed over Likenia‘s face but it was only there for a split second as her expression changed back to the docile one she normally wore. She let him in and quickly made her exit.

______________________________________

    A girl walked down the hallway then came back quick as a cat and quiet as a shadow to listen at the door. A girl didn’t trust this man. He made the hairs on her arms stand up and he alerted every sense of warning and danger in her body.  
    She listened as he outlined their travel plans and told her of the gold he had brought with him. He suggested she send the novice to the markets to buy her pretty things. Gowns and jewels and chairs.  
     A girl was disgusted. This preening, slippery shit was clearly more concerned with parading Daenerys around than actually caring for her. His motives weren’t pure and she would find out exactly what they were.  
     She continued to listen as he asked her what she planned on doing about the child. “You should consider picking a new name, and marrying me. The babe wouldn’t be a bastard at least.” He said and his tone reeked of arrogance. “No matter my marital status, my child has the blood of old Valyria from both mother and father, and could never be a bastard.” A girl smiled at the icy tone of the queens voice.  
      Yes, she would follow and protect her she decided. It didn’t matter what Her brother said, no harm would come to her while she drew breath.  
    It had been quite a while since a new name was added to her list. Daario Naharis she thought as she walked away from the door to find her chambers and make a plan.

______________________________________

      Jon looked up at the shadow of the dragon as it passed the sun. He didn’t think he would actually come but here he was, making a hard landing among the crumbling stones of the Dragon pit.  
     Everyone had made their preparations for the journey East and now stood in the pit with their belongings looking uneasy at the prospect of climbing onto a hostile dragon.  
Drogon must have sensed their apprehension and let out an ear piercing screech for good measure.  
      Bran was wheeled over and he spoke to Jon out of earshot of the others who were gathered. They looked on impatiently.  
Jon slowly approached Drogon, both palms up, to show him he meant him no harm. Drogon hissed at him, remembering it was he who wielded the blade against his mother.  
      With the dragon closer Jon could feel his thoughts. I’m sorry Drogon. Sorry for everything. But I need you to take us to your mother. She’s in danger and I only wish to help her, he thought to the dragon. Just then Drogon let him in. And while it didn’t come to him in words it came to him in feelings and flashes of his memories.  
     He felt the pain Drogon felt as he tried to nudge Daenerys as she lay lifeless on the throne room. He saw him flying her over the seas and felt his anger and heartbreak.  
    Aye, boy I know. I know what I’ve done. But she needs us now more than ever. Drogon cocked his head and looked directly in Jon’s eyes. A look of understanding passed between them and Drogon bowed his head in deference to Jon.  
    He looked to the people standing behind him and back to Drogon. They wish to come as well. Drogon huffed his agreement.  
“Where is Tyrion?” Jon didn’t want him even remotely aware of what was taking place in the pit. “He was sent to survey the Forests of the Crownlands this morning. We have several building projects ahead of us. I don’t think he suspects anything.” Bran said.  
    Jon was skeptical, Tyrion was smarter than most men and the most cunning by far. If he didn’t know exactly what was going on, he knew something was afoot, which made Jon all the more eager to leave. He had waited two day in Kings’ Landing, Two days too long. It was time to go.  
    “I would say thank you, but this is a situation of your own making,” he said grudgingly as he bent the knee to his King. “I know Jon. I’m sorry,” he said as he looked away, not able to meet his eyes.  
    “Are you ready Dragon King?” Tormund asked. Jon nodded.  
Tormund sighed, his eyes scanning the entrance hoping that he would get one last glimpse of his tall, blonde beauty. She never came and his shoulders slumped.  
    “King Bran,” Tormund called. Bran raised his eyes to meet his. “Tell my woman I shall see her again,” he said wistfully. The ghost of a smile played on Brans lips. “I shall tell her. Keep my brother safe Tormund Giantsbane.”  
     Drogon bowed low to allow them to climb upon his back. Sōvegon jon commanded silently. With a beat of wings they were airborne.  
Take me to your mother, boy. And get us there as quickly as you can. Drogon beat his great wings faster in response, sensing the urgency in his new rider.  
     They flew for hours above the clouds, soon they were above the sea and Jon couldn’t shake his apprehension. One swoop and they were all dead. He held on for his life, grateful for the gloves he wore. Soon his arse and thighs began to ache, weary from sitting on hard dragon scale. He stole a quick glance back to look at the others.  
     Sam sat directly behind him and he couldn’t help but find amusement in the terror on his windblown face. They all looked tired and night had fallen. They were still over the sea but Jon spotted a tiny island and decided to land there for the night.  
    He recalled the command for landing in Valyrian. Tegun, and Drogon began his descent. Looking up at the sky, it seemed as if the stars were close enough to touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daario, you in danger boy. We have yet to figure out what his motives are but trust me they ain’t good. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As I deleted and started over multiple times. I struggle with dialogue but I think I’m getting better at it. I’m really trying to stay true to the characters mannerisms and patterns of speech. I hope I’m doing them  
> Justice. Til next time !


	9. The Queens Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daario uncovered, A girl is Arya Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna thank you readers for subscribing and all your feedback.You guys are amazing.

               A girl had been watching Daario and his comings and goings to The Temple. Today she managed to slip out and follow him with no one noticing her absence. She followed through cobblestoned streets, alleys stinking of piss and shit, but he took no notice. _An arrogant cunt. Too self-absorbed and cocky to even suspect he could be followed,_ she thought with a smirk. _Quiet as a shadow, quick as a cat._ She chanted.

               He stopped at an inn, so she ducked into the nearest alleyway lest he look around as he awaited entry. She saw a man trying to forcefully drag a young girl into an opened doorway. _This will be easier than I thought,_ she mused. She quickly shed the face of Likenia and put it in a fold of her gown. She stepped behind the man and covered his mouth with her hand and dragged her dagger across his throat, spilling blood onto the young girl. A girl could see the fear in her eyes.

               “Shhh. I’m not here to hurt you. Go now and don’t tell anyone what happened here.” The girl nodded in understanding, scrambling to her feet and ran from the alley. As she glanced behind her, she saw No One carving at her attackers’ face.

             Having shed her Novices’ garb, she now wore the rags of the rapist she just killed. She made her way out of the alley and knocked three times on the tavern door. She could hear the effects of strong ale or wine, because it sounded as if those inside were deep in their cups already. The door was opened, she stepped inside and scanned the tables looking for her mark.

               She found him. He was sitting with three men. Three wealthy men judging by their brightly colored silk robes and the gold rings they sported. She moved closer, finding a table directly across from them. She sat and listened.

               “So, Naharis, you sell your sword so how are we to trust that you will just hand the Dragon Bitch over?” One man asked. He was fat with soft hands and greasy curled hair. A girl knew he’d never fallen on hard times. _It would be like carving a pig,_ she thought.

               Daario took a healthy swig from his mug. “Because she has nothing, only what I’ve given her. She trusts me. I even offered to marry and legitimize her bastard” he laughed. The others didn’t. “That’s all well and good, Naharis. But someone else might pay to see her to safety.” Another man countered. “That may be, but she used and betrayed me. I have no love left for her. Besides, she laid waste to Kings’ Landing so any potential saviors probably all hate her now. Even the father of her bastard wants to see her dead.” He shrugged and continued. “So, I will deliver the bitch, can I expect to receive my payment on delivery?” The men looked to communicate without words for a moment, before long the ‘leader’ spoke up. “You will receive payment as agreed, as long as she comes to us alive and subdued. The babe will fetch a good price as well. See it done, within two days time.”  

               Daario nodded, “Seems we have a deal. Place of contact is my choice and sent to you by messenger tomorrow.” Daario got up and swaggered from the tavern.

               A girl was right. She waited twenty counts before she got up and slipped out of the tavern unnoticed.

                                 ***

    Daenerys was so uncomfortable. Her pelvis burned with pain, her back ached, and the need to piss was constant. She lay on her side with a cushion between her legs, and dreaded the thought of going to her chamber pot despite the persistent ache in her bladder.

               She sat up a little to ring the bell that summoned Likenia and waited for her to come. She waited. And waited some more. Near an hour passed in which time Dany struggled to get up and relieve herself unassisted, when finally, a rapid knock sounded on her door.

    “Enter,” Dany said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Likenia rushed in and bolted the door behind her. “What is happening?” Dany asked frantically. _Have they come for me? Is this how I finally die, heavy with child and among strangers._ Her heart felt like it would explode in her chest that it beat so fast.

    “It’s Daario, Your Grace.” _Daario?_ “What of him? Has he been harmed?” she asked. Likenia shook her head. “He means to kidnap and sell you to three men. He was once your lover.” The accusation and the implication hung in the air. Daenerys sighed. “Yes, he was. For a time. And I left him behind. Are you saying he went through all of this to betray me over hurt feelings?” She couldn’t believe it of Daario. _I thought he was trying to manipulate me into a relationship, but he wanted to see me dead, or worse?_ A small part of Dany didn’t want to believe Daario would hurt her, but then she didn’t think Jon would hurt her either.

    “And how did you come by this information?” Dany asked, her guard up with this novice as well. The girl turned to her and tugged at her neck and Dany screamed.

    “Quiet.” Arya hissed. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already,” she said. Dany sat stunned, saying nothing. “I was sent here by my brother the King to investigate rumors of a silver haired woman who arrived dead in the claw of a dragon, and was brought back to life.” She paused, gauging Dany’s reaction to her revelation. “When I arrived, I saw a broken woman. Defeated and betrayed. I didn’t know what they would do to you. I was grateful for your help, we owed our survival of White Walkers to you, although I did help a bit,” she said with a smirk.

    “But I did pity you. I watched and I saw that you weren’t a tyrant. You weren’t mad. You were broken.” Arya stopped and looked up when she heard Daenerys sobbing. “Then I noticed your bump, and I knew it was Jon’s. I can’t let anything happen to you.” She finished in a rush of words.

    “Why didn’t you reveal yourself sooner?” She asked. Arya shrugged. “I don’t know, but if I had I don’t think I would have discovered Daario’s plot. He’s to deliver you in two days time. I figured I could use my skills, kill him, take his face, and deliver you trussed up.       I would kill them easy and we take their gold and go. Set you up in that house you want with proper guards.” Arya’s tone softened as she looked at Daenerys’ belly. “So you can raise my niece or nephew and be happy.”

    Dany looked surprised at the cold way Arya planned the death of four men. _The robbery is a good bit as well._ She thought to herself. “We have to continue our routine until he makes his move.” Arya said. Dany met her eyes and regarded her for a moment. “Please don’t tell your family about me Arya. If they find out, they will send one assassin after another after me. Please,” she begged. “I won’t tell Dany. I swear it.”

    Arya let out a long puff of air. She sat on the bed next to Dany. When she looked at Dany her eyes were so sorrowful and glassy. “Can you tell me why? Why did you burn all those innocent people?” Dany struggled for the right words. “When I was sold to my husband Drogo, I thought my brother Viserys would be King. Because it was his by right of birth. Then he threatened my son, and my husband killed him” she recounted with a faraway look in her eyes. “The Iron Throne became mine by rights. And I had earned the right to come and claim it. I earned my forces and birthed my dragons. Then I fell in love. And I abandoned my war because of love. I lost my dragons, the only children I thought I’d ever have,” as she said that, she placed a hand on her belly. “I lost Ser Jorah, a man who loved me and protected me with his life, and I lost Missandei.”

    The tears flowed freely, and Arya listened attentively. She grabbed Dany’s hand, absentmindedly, to give her comfort. “And I lost my identity. Jon told me who he was born to be. And I was happy. I thought all my blood dead. It seemed so perfect. I thought we would marry and rule together. But he shunned me.”  
               “You are his Aunt. He still loved you, and I know it’s normal in your family, but those weren’t Jon’s ways. I know my brother and I know he loved you, but he was conflicted and needed time to process it all.” Arya said almost defensively.

    “I know that now. But also, I saw how the people loved him. How they hated me even though I helped to save them. All those things combined with him leaving me made me feel as if he would press his better claim and take everything that I suffered for.” The tears slid down her cheeks as she gathered her thoughts. “I begged him not to tell anyone and he told you and Sansa.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “They were trying to poison me after that bitch killed Missandei and Rhaegal. I hadn’t even burned the city yet and they wanted me dead. They preferred your brother.”

    Arya raised her eyebrows at this, but said nothing, allowing her to continue. “Jon knew I was grieving and had no one to trust.” The last words ended on a choked sob. “When I sat atop that building looking at the Red Keep, I thought of all the things I had lost to save them, for them to hate me. The bells rung and the dragonflame was my emotions manifest. I make no excuses for it. I regret it with every breath I draw. I don’t know why I did it. But it’s done, and if I look back, I am lost.” She sat back as if unpacking the memories and emotions were physically taxing.

    “I did ask. What you said doesn’t change how I feel about your actions, but You’re my in the wolfpack now.” She looked at her fiercely. “I will protect you.” She said. Dany harrumphed. “I’m sure Sansa feels otherwise. Her actions set the wheel in motion.” Arya looked at her. “Sansa is a plotter. But leave her to me. I know how to handle my sister,” she said darkly.

    She got up and made to leave. “Where are you going?” Dany asked. Arya shrugged. “I have duties as a novice, But don’t worry, I will convince Mokkoro to let me sleep in here tonight.”

  Arya left her alone with her thoughts. It wasn’t long before she dozed lightly.

_She was in a sprawling yard with a single lemon tree. Just then she heard the timbre of his laugh and it went through her. She whipped around. ‘Jon?’ He had a babe in his arms, ‘Love she just smiled at me’ Dany was confused. ‘But you killed me’ she said. He took his eyes away from the baby and the happy expression vanished ‘Aye, but I will also save you’_

      She woke with a start. Several hours had passed, because to her left ‘Likenia’ lay snoring softly. The candles burned out and it was pitch black. She tried to settle herself and drift off to sleep, but sleep didn’t come at first. She lay awake thinking of Jon and how tormented her heart was at the thought of him. The growing babe only made it worse. She loved him for giving her this child and she mourned the fact that he would never get to meet him. She was still _in love_ with him. But she hated him as well. She lay there, tears soaking her pillow until the dawn started to filter through the curtains, that’s when sleep finally took her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Daario is UPSET honey. Jilted lover. I hope you guys enjoyed. Drop a comment to let me know what you think.


	10. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daario makes his move, Arya water dances and Jon bloodies his sword.

    They flew for nearly two days. Snatching only hours of rest at the tiny Island in the middle of the sea the previous night. They woke at Dawn, breaking their fast on bread and hard cheese around the embers of a dying fire. They ate in silence for a time until Ser Davos asked, “What do you  plan to say, Jon?”

    Jon paused mid chew, “I haven’t thought about it. What’s an adequate apology for killing someone?” He asked around a mouthful of half chewed food. It was a good question. _I killed my sworn brothers for their betrayal of me. I’d be a fool to expect forgiveness._

    The truth was he didn’t know what to expect, and that’s what scared him. He wanted to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness, but he doubted she would let him get that close. His stomach was in knots and he lost his appetite at the thought of this reunion. They were so close, mere hours away, but he was the furthest he’d ever been from her. He needed to release his nerves or his emotions would have him explode.

    “Tormund, Gendry, I wish to spar before we leave,” he said as he drew his blades. He had taken to fighting in the style of some of the Freefolk, with two weapons to even his odds when he was being a dick and insulting people. He’d often have to defend his words with steel.

    “Both of us at the same time?” Gendry sputtered. “I fear I’m at a disadvantage, I don’t fight with blades and you have two,” he said with raised hands, conceding before the match began. “Tormund then.” Jon declared.

    He walked away from the fire and took his position. Tormund walked over with a savage smile. “I always knew you were a mad fuck, Dragon King.” Tormund swung a savage blow that Jon sidestepped with ease, throwing Tormund off balance. Jon allowed Tormund a moment to recover and waited for his next attack. Tormund feinted right and swung to his left, and Jon parried it easily, it as if he were fighting with a child. Tormund continued to attack with Jon either sidestepping or parrying his blows. They continued this way for a time until Tormund started to tire.

    Jon started to press his attack, raining down blows. Soon the only sounds to be heard were the clang and scrape of steel on steel along with grunts of exertion. Jon’s arms moved so quickly they seemed to blur. Everyone sat transfixed. Jon was good with a sword, but with two he was a vision.

    Time stood still when he was fighting. All he heard was his own heartbeat and the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. He hated fighting and killing, but he moved as if fighting and killing were the only reasons he was born. The swords became an extension of his arm and he moved from instinct and muscle memory more than anything else.

    “Yield!” Tormund called out as Jon knocked his sword out of his hand and swept his legs from under him with his sword pointed down at him. “For fucks sake I yield” Tormund said again, realizing Jon was feeling the rush of the fight.

    Jon’s eyes cleared and he tucked one of his swords under his arm ad offered Tormund a hand. “Now we can leave,” he said after Tormund got to his feet.

                                                                                                                                 ***

    Arya nudged Dany gently to rouse her from sleep. “Dany, it’s almost midday. You need to get up.” Daenerys groaned and shifted a bit on the bed before sticking her hand straight up. “I have to piss,” she said crudely. Arya pulled her up and helped her relieve herself. When she was seated at the table Arya began to lay out the plan for today. Daenerys stopped her. “Arya, I’m unsure of this plan. Wouldn’t it be better to flee? I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of everything.” Arya shook her head. “You can’t flee now. You can’t have this babe on the road Dany. This is the _only_ plan. Our only shot.” Arya explained.

    Dany said nothing. Amazed at how much she sounded like Jon. She just looked at her. “You’re not going to cry again, are you?” Arya asked. Dany laughed in response. Soft at first and then all at once it became peals of laughter. She laughed until her eyes watered and her stomach hurt. “Jon said you were closest to him,” she said as she wiped tears from her eyes and collected herself. “You sound just like him sometimes.”

     Arya didn’t try to contain her smile either. She loved her brother and was fiercely loyal to him. That’s why it bothered her so much when she found out that Sansa and Tyrion manipulated Jon. But that was a problem for another day.

    Someone knocked loudly on the door. “Who is it?” Dany called. “Daario.” Dread settled in the pit of Dany’s stomach at the voice. “Now is not a good time Daario, I haven’t finished dressing,” she said, stalling for time. “I’ve seen it before Your Grace. I wouldn’t ravish a pregnant woman. You’re safe from me, I swear it.” Came the reply from behind the door.

    Dany closed her eyes feeling sick at his words, knowing the true meaning behind them. I’ll be but a few moments longer. Wait in the courtyard until I’m finished. Please Daario.”

    “As my _Queen_ commands.” Arya let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Fuck,” she swore. “He wasn’t supposed to be here so early in the day. FUCK!” Arya continued swearing, and Dany shut her eyes and tried to call out to Drogon.

    He was near. If they could just hold him off until he came, she would be safe.

                                                                                                                                       *****

    Daario stormed out into the courtyard. _She knows._ He found his men and updated them to the situation, as this would be no seamless acquisition. “I’m going back to her rooms once I’m done here. I want you all to stay here and be prepared to fight your way out. I don’t know if these priests are armed or what kind of magic they have. But this won’t be easy.” He turned and went back the way he came.

                                                                                                                                      *****

    “He’s back,” Arya said before he knocked. “Just one moment Daario, let me put my gown on,” She called out shrilly. _Gods he can probably hear the fear in my voice,_ she thought frantically. She picked up the shears from her desk and put the hand that held them behind her back. Arya, still wearing Likenia’s face and garb, pulled needle from thin air it seemed. She went into the small room that kept Dany’s chamber pot. _Silent as a shadow._

    “Enter” she called out. Daario swaggered in with a look of victory on his face. “My Queen, you injure me. Putting me off to get dressed when you still wear a rumpled sleeping shift. If I were a betting man, I’d wager you were up to something,” he said as he eyed her skeptically.

    She fixed a plastic smile to her face. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked behind batted lashes. “I like to see you pine, that’s all.” He smiled but this time it was more of a sneer. He turned his back to her and began to pace. “You left me on this side of the sea for a political marriage to pine for you, for almost two years,” he turned to face her. “Then you return, unmarried, broken and penitent, with a bastard in your belly,” he spat.

    She feigned shock at his tone. “You know why I left. It wasn’t because I didn’t care for you. I just wanted the throne more, I’m sorry that you were hurt in the process. I’m sorry that _I_ hurt you.” She was sorry that he was hurt, that part wasn’t a lie. But she never cared for him. She was just lonely, and he was good for scratching a particular itch.

    “You didn’t care for me. You didn’t seem upset in the least. I betrayed my comrades for you,” he started, but was cut off. “You betrayed them for what you thought I could do for you, let’s be honest Daario.”

    “Honesty?” He laughed. “Alright _My Queen._ The remaining masters are waiting for you and your bastard. They’re paying me a lot of gold for you and your whelp.” He said as he pulled his knife and began to clean his nails with it. “I don’t want to injure you as I promised them I would deliver you unmarred, but I will if I have to.”

    Just then there was a loud thud and then the foundations of the temple rocked.

                                                           

                                                                *****

    Jon’s stomach dropped at the sudden altitude shift of the Dragon as he began to descend closer to land, without a command from Jon. He picked up speed as he flew lower and then all of a sudden, he came to a hard land in the middle of a spacious courtyard, made of pillar and stone.

    As they dismounted, Jon noticed what looked like fire damage and melted stone. She was here. His blood sang whenever he was in proximity to her. As he scanned the courtyard, he noticed a few men in expensive armor, heavily armed and openly gawking at them and the Dragon.  “Ready your weapons,” Jon said, anticipating a fight.

    A group of acolytes poured out from an adjacent entryway armed with spears, followed by a man dressed in flowing red robes. “What is the meaning of this violation of the lord’s temple,” The mans voice boomed and echoed off the walls. He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked to his left and saw Drogon. “Did he bring you here?” The priest asked shakily. “Aye, he did.” He looked at him and asked quietly “Where is she?” It sounded like a plea. It was desperate and painful.

    “Why are you here?” The priest asked. Jon looked to the armed men making their way over to them. “To save her.” He drew his blades and looked to Sam and Davos. “Find somewhere safe,” and he ran to meet the attackers with Tormund and Gendry right behind him.

    The first man lost his head as Jon spun around him and used his blades as scissors. Gendry was holding his own as he jumped over a sword stroke aimed at his legs and brought his hammer down on the head of the man, cleaving off half his face. Two were on Tormund. He kicked one man in the chest, spun and swung down, chopping the sword arm off the other mans body. Jon was a blur of cloak and steel. He spun right and spilled the intestines of a man, stepped left and put his sword through the back of a man who went for Gendry as he came out of a hammer blow that killed another man.

    Before long 12 bodies lay at their feet and the man who lost his arm was moaning in pain. Jon stilled, but his chest heaved as he tried to breathe. Slowly the sounds of the courtyard came back to him. Still in the heat of battle, he saw the man writing on the floor. He walked over to him, and drove his blade into his neck so hard that it became lodged in the stone floor. With a savage yank, he pulled the blade out.  He cleaned his steel on the man’s pants.

    He wiped his face and turned to the priest. “I apologize for the violence in your temple, but I’ll not ask again. Where in this temple is she?” His tone was lethal and his face, covered in blood and grime, was violence. Murder was in his eyes and his blood boiled.

    “Just through the courtyard there’s a hallway. Her chambers are at the end.” Jon nodded and looked to Tormund and Gendry. “This way boys.”

    Every step he took was with  purpose, bringing him closer to her. The closer he got he heard a sound unmistakable to a warrior. Steel on steel. He sprinted the remaining length of the hallway and burst through the door.

                                                                                                                                  *****

    Daario yanked her out of the chair by her hair and as he did so, Dany tripped and landed on her side, hard. Her waters burst as she hit the floor. _No not now. Please Gods, not now_ she pleaded with her child. He grabbed her hair to drag her out but cried out in pain as something struck his hand that held the knife.

    He looked up to see the novice holding a thin sword. He smiled and pushed Dany back. He drew his curved blade and started to circle the novice. _Queer place this, where novices are trained in combat,_ he thought. He swiped at her neck and she jumped back bending backwards slightly. She turned to the side as she dodged another blow. _Quick as a cat._ She stole a glance at Dany. She was wincing and sitting in a growing blood tinged puddle. _I have to end this quick,_ she thought. She couldn’t hack at him; needle was only good for poking. Hacking would only produce shallow gashes. She continued her water dance hoping to tire him, but he was fast.

    He began to get frustrated, so his slashes became erratic, but one of them fund its mark. He wounded her across her belly. She grunted in pain but continued to dance.

    Seconds felt like hours as Arya’s injury sowed her down. _Not today_ she thought. She was distracted by the door bursting and the sight of her brother. Daario was waiting for her distraction and landed another slash to her shoulder.

                                                                                                                                    *****

    Jon looked from his sister-he knew it was her, no matter what face she wore, she held needle- to Daenerys. “Tormund get her to Drogon” he screamed. He moved to engage the man who had his sister taking steps back. He saw she was bleeding and he screamed as he swung his blades at the man.  

    He assaulted Daario with a righteous fury, arms and steel blurring as he wielded both blades. Ser Arthur Dayne would have been proud. He took both blades and struck two savage parallel blows on his abdomen, spilling his guts on the floor. He dropped to his knees and Jon dropped both blades and unsheathed longclaw. He took a breath then separated his head from his body in one stroke. He kicked his body as he stepped over it.

    “You’re hurt,” he said to Arya. She looked to Daario. “Not as much as him. I’ll live. But I need his face.” Jon frowned. “We need to leave Arya,” he looked back to Daario. “We need to leave before any more of his men show up.” Before he finished, she had already started to separate his face from his head. “I’m almost finished.”

    She stood up and peeled off the face of the novice. “I need to change, do you mind?” Jon growled and turned his back. “Be quick about it.”

    “Look, I have to see some men about some gold. The exchange for Daenerys is taking place today. I’m gonna kill those whoresons, and take their gold. We’re going to have need of it.” She said matter of factly.

                                                             *****

    “I cannot ride on Drogon,” she said through clenched teeth. Her waters broke and the birthing pains started in earnest. They were strong but not coming quickly. She knew it would be hours before the actual birth. But she could not travel. “Your Grace, it is important for us to leave this place at once,” Davos interjected.

    “How am I to do that Ser Davos? I can’t sit a horse much less ride a dragon and I can barely walk,” she cried. The priest stepped forward. “We have a carriage, my child, that Kinvara used when she wanted to travel and remain unseen. I assure you it is most comfortable, and can sit 4 people,” he said.

    “It will have to do,” Jon said as he thundered into the courtyard with Arya limping behind him. “Sam, see to Arya’s wounds and be quick.”

  The breath left Dany’s body as she saw him. There eyes met and they stood there for what seemed like several moments not saying a word.Her heart nearly burst at the sight of him. _He came to save me, but why, when it was his blade that killed me._ She wrapped her arms around her belly, the need to protect her babe threatened to overwhelm her. Every cell in her body screamed _RUN_ but she felt her feet carrying her closer to him. She couldn’t fight the hold he had on her. And she cursed herself for it.

    He drank in the sight of her and as she drew closer to him his vision blurred with tears. His palms burned with the urge to touch her. His eyes went to her belly. _Gods, the child she carried has swelled her beyond reason._ He’d seen plenty women with child, but none with bellies as big as this. She no longer had the steel back and the graceful walk of one that seemed to glide. Each step was a struggle with the weight of the child. She stopped mid stride and gripped her belly. A grimace of pain crossed her face as she breathed deeply through the pain.

    Closing the gap between them, he looked in her eyes and saw the grief reflected in them. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words.

 

 


	11. Hard For Me To Say I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girls sets out to get some gold  
> And TARGLINGS!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i've been posting chapters at a breakneck pace. The story has taken on a life of it's own and I have so many plots swimming in myy head, If I don't type I would go crazy. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

    Sam worked as quickly as possible to tend Arya’s wounds. They were painful, but not life threatening, slowing her down a little, but not incapacitating her. She couldn’t afford to be in a sick bed. A girl had one more thing to do. “You should take a bit of this,” Sam said as he handed her a small black vial. Arya uncorked and sniffed at the liquid inside. “No milk of the poppy, I need to have my wits about me,” she said as she eyed the needle, he now held to stitch her.

    Sam’s hands were visibly shaking, “Bloody hell, man get on with it,” Arya cried impatiently. She took in a hissing breath as the needle pierced her skin, and thread dragged through it. After some time, Arya looked down and saw that he wasn’t even half finished. “Are you knitting a sweater Sam, it doesn’t have to be pretty. Just close the damn thing!” She was getting impatient and eager to be on her way. Murder was on her mind.

    Finally, he finished. “Thank you,” she said as she put on the face of Daario Naharis. She heard a sharp intake of air come from across the courtyard. She looked and saw Gendry eyeing her, when he noticed she saw him, he quickly looked away. _I could drown in those blue eyes,_ she thought, and cursed herself as she did so. _I’m no bloody Lady to fall in love,_ as she finished the thought, Jon approached her.

   “What’s your plan Arya?” She almost laughed. “Plan?” she asked. She hadn’t really thought of a _plan._  “Pretend to be Daario until they reveal the gold, then kill them,” she shrugged. She didn’t need a plan. It was simple.

    Jon shook his head. He was exhausted and the thought of another fight left him sick to his stomach. “I can’t leave her,” he said as he looked over to where Dany sat, Sam examining her with his hands on her belly. “I would feel better if you took Gendry with you, to watch your back.” His dark eyes met hers and she understood he wasn’t _asking her;_ this was a command. “Whatever makes you feel better Jon.”

   “Lord Baratheon let’s go,” she said. Gendry pushed himself off the wall and walked over to Jon. They spoke in hushed tones for a minute, then clasped arms in a warriors’ embrace.Gendry and Arya, wearing the face of Daario Naharis walked out of the courtyard and into the street.

                                                                        ******

    “Jon, she won’t be able to travel by carriage or otherwise. Her pains are coming quickly, I’d say about every 3-4 minutes and they are getting stronger.” Sam said to him nervously. The High Priest was watching all of this and stepped forward. “Kinvara’s chambers have remained untouched since her death. You have access to it as long as you need. The acolytes will guard the courtyard along with the dragon, provided he doesn’t incinerate them,” The priest said as he glanced nervously at the dragon.

    “Thank you,” Jon said and extended his hand to the priest, who took it and a look of understanding passed between the men, an understanding between a warrior and a holy man.

    Drogon was in visible distress. He had no wounds, but Jon guessed he was sensing Dany’s pain and fear. Jon walked over to him and pet his nose. _Easy boy. Your mother will be fine. I swear it._ Drogon picked his head up and met Jon’s eyes. _I need you to guard this courtyard. Help the men to protect your mother._ Drogon tilted his head to show that he understood. Jon pat his nose once more then turned to Dany. As he did so he felt the word _Father_ come from Drogon, Jon turned to look at him _Aye, I guess so boy._

    Jon kneeled in front of Dany. “We need to get you to the chambers, you can’t birth the babe on this bench Dany,” He went to touch her belly and she visibly shrank bank. “Don’t. Touch. Me,” She squeezed her eyes shut howled in pain as another contraction gripped her body.

    Jon picked her up and bid the High Priest to show him the way. Sam followed  as he carried her down the hallway. “Let me go, put me down,” she screamed. She beat at his chest with her small fists, he felt nothing.  “Dany STOP,” he said forcefully. He paused, mid stride as he held her up.

    She looked up at him, and he felt her stiffen as another pain took her body, he felt something warm and wet soaking through the sleeve of his tunic. “Dany please, I’m not here to hurt you.” Her body slackened as she was released from the grip of the birthing pain. ‘No, you already did that,” she said, her voice thick with tears.

     A wave of emotion rolled through her body and she surrendered. “You hurt me” she said in a strangled whisper. She started to cry, softly at first, then the cries escalated to something almost inhuman. Primal and guttural. Her body shook with grief and hurt and hatred. And love. His touch Ignited her body and eased her heart from the slumber of unfeeling it had been in. Loving him, with the memory of what he did to her, hurt.

   Jon flexed his jaw and kept walking. His vision blurred as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he whispered.They came to a door which was clearly the chamber of the Red Priestess, as the door was painted the most vivid red. He kicked the door open with his foot and swept inside.

    In the middle of the room sat a great bed, piled with cushions and pillows. Sam hurried and swept the cushions from the bed except one. ‘Lie her down Jon,” Sam ran back to the hall and yelled for water and linens.

    “I have to examine you, down there” he said nervously as he looked from Jon and back to her. She said noting but nodded her head in ascent as she writhed on the bed as another pain took her. Sam noticed they seemed to be coming back to back, with no break between them.

    The jugs of steaming water arrived along with bolts of linens. Sam washed his hands with an infusion of lemon and herbs and then rinsed them in the scalding water. Sam sat and pulled her shift above her hips. “Let your legs fall to each side, please,” Dany did as she was bid but tensed and screamed as another pain took her. Jon paced nervously, unsure of what to do, he walked back to the door to see Tormund had posted himself outside it.

    “For someone who swore to take no wife and father no children,” Tormund started with an arched brow, Jon sucked his teeth and slammed the door. He heard Tormund’s hearty laugh as he walked back over to the bed.

    Sam had his hand between Dany’s legs, when he withdrew his hand it was covered in blood and fluid. Jon started at the sight. “Is so much blood normal Sam? Is she ok?” Sam shook his head. “Yes, it’s normal, but her pains are coming so close together I thought for sure she would need to push. She’s only about halfway ready, and she’s already in so much pain.” Sam said.

     “So, what’s to be done?” he asked. “Can you give her something to ease her pain?” She had already suffered by his hand, and to see her suffering to bring his child into the world broke him even further. “I can’t lose her Sam,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Not again.”

    “She needs to walk. It will bring the child down further and speed things up hopefully,” he said. He looked at Jon, covered in blood and dust from fight and flight, “You need to take off your gambeson and tunic. And wash the blood from yourself,” he said. “For when the babe comes.” He went over to Dany and explained to her that she needed to get up and walk.

    “How do you expect me to do that?” she cried out as another pain wracked her body. “You have to, for the baby.” As Jon stripped and washed, he stole a look at her. A look of determination passed her face. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she said. “A birthing bed will _not_ conquer me.” She met his eyes as she said this.

    Jon helped her from the bed and supported her as she walked. A pain gripped her body and she turned to face him, putting her arms around his neck for support as she squatted slightly and rocked her hips from side to side. He put his arms around her waist and swayed with her. She moaned low and deep as she rode the wave of pain until it ebbed away.

    They said nothing to one another, but fell into a rhythm. Walking and then holding each other with each pain. Sam watched this for some time, feeling like an intruder in this incredibly intimate moment. It was beautiful, and tragic as he thought of the events that led them here to make this journey.

    Dany leaned into him and moaned. “You’re so strong Dany, you can do this” Jon encouraged her. “I don’t know if I can, it hurts so much,” she whimpered. Jon leaned his forehead against hers and it was slick with sweat. “I love you Dany. I thought about you every day. I dreamt of you every night, and in my darkest hour, it was you that saved me. _I felt your heartbeat,”_ he said.

    At his words, Dany let out a muffled sob, by this time her face was buried in his neck. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, I don’t know.” Her shoulders trembled and she tensed and cried out as another pain took her. Jon rocked with her until it subsided.

    “I’d spend one thousand lifetimes to make it up to you, if you’d let me,” he said to her as he looked in her eyes. She said nothing but tensed again with another pain. “Gods. It feels like I’m being squeezed and rent in two all at once,” she screamed. She started to tremble uncontrollably.

   “Sam, what’s happening? She’s shaking,” Sam hurried over. “Some women tremble during childbirth. She may have to vomit soon. I know Gilly did, when her tremors passed. It’s soon time to push, I think.”

    As he said the words Dany turned from Jon and vomited on the floor. She groaned. “I need to relieve myself,” She groaned again. “Hurry, get me a pot, I can’t hold it.” Sam’s eyes grew frantic,   
“No Jon, that’s the babe making its way out, get her to the bed,” he commanded.

   “No I have to shit,” she screamed. Jon swooped her up and placed her on the bed. “Let your legs fall to the side please,” Sam looked between her legs to examine her and didn’t even need to use his hands. “I can see the head, Dany. I want you to push with all your strength when the next pain comes.”

    No sooner than the words left his mouth did Dany take in a deep breath and start to push. Jon sat at her head and held her hand. “That’s great Dany, keep pushing.” Sam counted to ten and when he had finished, he told her to stop and take a few breaths. “Alright do the same thing when the next pain comes.” Sam counted and Dany pushed, while Jon watched helplessly, feeling useless. “That’s it love. You can do this,” he encouraged her on. “I can’t. It burns,” she said.

    “Dany the baby’s head is almost out, I need you to breathe through your next pain so the baby can rotate. It’s important that you fight the urge to push, do you understand?” She nodded her head. Another pain gripped her body and she arched her back so hard she was almost off the bed. “Settle down and don’t hold your breath. Quick breaths are what’s needed now,” he said.

    Dany settled back down and panted through the ring of fire that threatened to take her sanity. She didn’t know what was worse, her body squeezing out the child or the pain of what was undoubtedly her flesh stretching and tearing beyond it’s limits. She felt like she was panting for an hour. It was only about a minute before Sam nodded his head. “Next pain, give me one big push and the babe will be here,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.

    Dany bore down and pushed with the last bit of strength she had left. All at once she felt relief as the baby left her body in a gush of warm fluid. High pitched, lusty cries rent the air and she sat back, exhausted.

    “Jon give me a wet cloth and the shears.” Jon gathered what he asked for, his eyes never leaving the child. “Girl or boy?” she croaked. “Girl,” he said quickly. He cleaned her face and then put his mouth on hers, clearing out her airway. He spit on the floor, and finished cleaning the blood off her tiny body. He hastily tied off her cord and cut it.

    Jon was now back at the bed holding Dany’s hand, audibly crying. “Dany I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” _This almost never happened. She was dead. My babe was dead by mine own hands. If it weren’t for Drogon…_

    “Jon?” he looked down at her. “I want to hold my daughter,” she said as Sam finished bundling her in one of the linens. Jon got up and took the bundle from Sam. The world stopped as he looked at his daughter. So tiny and perfect. She opened her eyes, Dany’s eyes, he observed, and yawned. His heart was near to bursting he felt so full of love and the need to protect them. He held onto her for a moment longer before placing her in her mother’s arms.

    Sam was back between Dany’s legs and another pain took her. “What was that?” She asked. “Nothing to worry about, you’ll have a few more minor pains until the afterbirth is delivered,” Sam answered. But as he looked, he didn’t see the red afterbirth protruding from her. He saw a tiny foot.

    “Dany, it’s not over,” he stammered. “What do you mean, Sam. Afterbirth can’t be that hard to pass,” she said. Sam shook his head as he got up and retrieved a pair of long seal skin gloves. He shook his head. “There’s another in there and its foot first. I must turn it or else you won’t be able to pass the shoulders. We could lose you both if I don’t.” He rushed his last words. “This is going to hurt,” he said as he met Jon’s eyes.

    Jon took the baby from Dany’s arms and put her right against his chest. He used one arm to hold the baby and another to hold Dany’s hand.

    Sam reached inside Dany with one hand and gently curled the legs of the babe, while he pushed down hard on her belly and began turning it. Dany let out a bloodcurdling scream. She screamed and screamed, and the sound threatened to fracture Jon’s sanity.

    “How much longer Sam. I can’t take this” he said. He looked up from his work, “Not much longer,” he said and gave one final push and turn and set back.

    “Ok the babe is turned. On your next pain push.” He said. Dany did as she was told and a few minutes later they were all greeted by another lusty cry. Sam cleaned and cleared the airway again. Cooing at the baby as he did so. “Boy or girl Sam?” She asked. “Oh, begging your pardon. Another daughter,” he smiled as he handed the baby to Dany.

    Jon and Dany looked at each other, each of them holding a baby. They said nothing but the look of love and could not be missed. There was still so much to be said, much to be atoned for. But this was a good start.

    As Jon looked at her, he noticed she had gotten very pale, and Sam had gotten very quiet. It was then he saw the many cloths soaked with blood. Sam looked to Jon. ‘I can’t staunch the flow. I have to pack her womb with cloth.” He scrambled over to the table that held his herbs. Pouring water into an ewer he dumped several herbs into the water and hen soaked the cloths in them.

    “These herbs help blood to form clots,” he explained as he saw Jon watching him. He hurried and packed her womb.

     Dany felt herself sinking and slipping from consciousness as her grip loosened on the baby she held, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep the comments coming. It gives me motivation to keep writing, and I do wangt to give you guys what you want-for the most part. lol


	12. A Sweet Dream, Or A Beautiful Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya returns  
> Tender moments and travel plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eyes and fingers can't keep up with the way my mind is racing with elements from the story. I literally can't stop typing. I hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I'm enjoying imagining all of this!

   Arya and Gendry walked for some time in silence before Gendry found his voice. “You know I didn’t expect you to become a literal Lady,” he said. She sighed, not knowing where to begin. “We need to play our roles right now, I can’t be dressed like this, talking of being a Lady,” she quipped. She softened her tone, “We can talk when we finish with this lot,” she said as they came upon the abandoned storehouse.

   Upon entering, Arya immediately noticed a huge wagon, half covered, displaying Daario’s payment of Gold. _There’s enough gold to buy one thousand castles,_ she mused. Her eyes scanned the room looking for more men, and saw none. Just the pampered Masters. She spat at the sight of them.

   “We thought you had betrayed us,” the fat one hissed. Arya feigned insult. “I’m almost offended,” she said with just the right amount of smugness. She pulled the knife from her hip and began to pick her nails with it for good measure. “Where’s the Dragon Bitch?” he asked.

   “Safe,” she replied. A look of confusion crossed his face and then, realization set in. A look of horror replaced it as Arya removed the face of Daario. “He was too greedy to betray you, and now he’s dead.” At her words Gendry swung his hammer and dispatched of one of the masters. He crumbled to the floor in a heap, never to rise again.

   They tried to flee, but Arya threw her knife and found her mark square in the back of the skinny master, severing his spinal cord. Gendry took out the legs of the fat one. Arya walked over to where he lay dragging himself towards the door, she stopped and stuck Needle into the back of the man she had just paralyzed, and continued to the fat one.

   She kicked him over onto his back. “I’m Arya Stark, and the _Dragon Bitch_ is mother to my brother’s child. Anyone who comes for her will die by my hand” she declared as she slowly skewered him with her sword.

   Gendry dragged the bodies to a far corner of the room, while Arya covered and unhitched the wagon. “Let me,” he said as he took the rope from her hands and began to pull it.

_Yes, he’ll do,_ she thought as she watched the muscles flex in his arms.

                                                           *****

   This was the third time Sam changed the linens that packed Dany’s womb and Jon was beginning to get frantic. Sam sensed this, and looked up at him. “The flow has slowed considerably, but I’m concerned now that she’s starting to feel feverish.” He said in a rush of words. Jon looked down at his daughters cradled in his arms. _Please Gods let her be ok._ He prayed.

   He sat down on the bed next to her and looked from her face to his daughters’ faces. He couldn’t tell who they looked like, their features so tiny on equally tiny heads, but he was sure they were the most beautiful things he had ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t believe that he helped to make them.

   “Congratulations are in order,” Davos said as he peeked in the room. “They’re a hearty set, and your Queen is an over achiever at most things, so I wasn’t surprised when Tormund told me she delivered not one, but two healthy babes.” Davos clapped him on the back and chuckled, but at his next words, his tone became serious. “This changes things now, doesn’t it?”

    Jon reluctantly tore his gaze away from his children and met his eyes. “Aye, I suppose it does,” he said quietly. “But know this, _whatever_ she wants to do, I am there with her. If she wishes to stay on this side of the sea, I will stay, if she wishes to go back and right many wrongs, I am there as well.” The hint of anger laced his tone and Davos nodded his understanding. “I’m with you as well.” Davos looked at Jon with a fierce loyalty and nodded. “I’m gonna find a meal and a bed. These old bones are weary,” he said as he turned to leave.

   “Davos,” Jon called after him, “This could mean war.” Davos ran a palm down his face and sighed. “When is it ever _not_ war Jon?” And with that, he left the room.

   Sam flitted from bed to table and back again, administering to Dany. Finally, he said the words Jon needed to hear. “Her fever broke. Now it’s just a matter of when she wakes up. She should be fine Jon.” He said. He looked to babies who busy smacking their lips. “You should put them to her breast. They’re getting hungry.”

    “I don’t know the first thing about nursing babes Sam.” Sam laughed. “Well that’s alright. You don’t need to know anything. He pointed to the girls, “They know what to do, just get them there. I’ll leave you to it.” And with that, Sam left Jon alone with his new family.

_******_

_The sunlight hurt her eyes as she walked through the grassy field. Just then two great shadows passed the sun. She looked up and the breath caught in her throat. The unmistakable sound of Dragons landing shook her to her core. I must be dead, she thought._

_A man and woman with silver hair walked towards her. At first glance she thought the woman was herself and the man Viserys, but as they came closer, she saw that it was her mother, and the man had to be her eldest brother Rhaegar, Jon’s father._

_‘No little sister, it was a very near thing, but you are not dead.’  She was confused, if she wasn’t dead, then how and why was she here, she thought. ‘Dragon dreams,’ her mother answered._

_‘We are proud of you, daughter. You restored our name.’ Rhaella said. Dany shook her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘I did no such thing, I was defeated, and I lost everything’ she choked out. ‘Yes, you lost, but look at all you’ve gained, my sweet’ Rhaella said as she took her chin in her hands and looked into her eyes._

_‘You were manipulated Dany. Both you and my son. He was led to believe what he did was the right thing. When he came to you in the throne room, he was torn, he still hadn’t made up his mind. Do you remember what he asked you?’ Rhaegar asked._

_‘He begged me to show those who plotted against me mercy. And I refused. I told him the people didn’t get to choose what was right or wrong.’ The cold hard realization hit her. It had been her own words that drove his blade into her chest. She remembered the pained expression he wore when he confronted her. How much like a Mad Queen she must have seemed. How he felt that he had no choice._

_‘You have to find a way to forgive him and show him mercy, daughter. For the sake of your daughters. For the daughters of the world.’ Rhaella said as she clasped her hands in hers. “I know you may hate him, but he’s your blood, and now you share children.” She finished. Dany looked away from her. ‘I don’t care about the world. I just want to live a quiet life,’ she said. ‘That’s not your decision to make,” Rhaegar said._

_“You will need each other in the wars to come sister, and the Great War is not yet over,” He continued cryptically. ‘What do you mean not yet over? The Night King is dead, and with him went his army of dead men.’  Rhaegar shook his head. ‘The moment he died he passed his curse on to another, it is not over.’_

_‘You will have time to get stronger, the new dragons will have had the time to grow as well.’ At Rhaella’s words Dany got defensive. ‘My children will not fight in this nor any other battle.”_

_Rhaegar chuckled a little. ‘Not the children from your womb sister, Drogon will lay eggs, one day soon. When Viseron and Rhaegal died, Drogon sensed the extinction of his kind, and Dragons aren’t gender specific. These you won’t have to hatch in a funeral pyre, Drogon will know when the time is right.’ He hugged her  briefly, first to break their embrace, ‘I love you sister. Please watch over my son, and tell him I wish I could have been there for him, and I’m sorry for all the suffering he’s had to endure because I wasn’t.’_

_She turned to her mother. ‘I always wondered what my life would have been like had you survived.’ She choked back sobs as her mother gathered her in a strong embrace. “You are Stormborn daughter, you will endure.’ She said as she stepped back._

_She followed her mother and brother over to the dozing forms of her dragons. They were just as she remembered them in life. Viserions’ scales were cream and gold, how they were before he was turned. She nuzzled them for a few moments and then her brother and mother mounted them._

_‘You honored me by naming your dragon after me sister,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It was my way of keeping you close,’ she said._

_‘Wake up Dany, your children need you.’ Her mother said before commanding Viserion to fly._

_*******_

    It was nearly nightfall before Arya and Gendry returned to the temple with a wagon drawn by two very expensive oxen. Arya needed a bath after shedding that dogs face, and some food. Her body ached, wounds hurt, and she was tired from almost a full day of fighting and walking. She needed to check on Dany first.

    One of the acolytes approached her. “Where did they take her?” She asked him. He regarded her with cold eyes. “Kinvara’s chambers.” She mumbled a thanks and tried to step around him, but he blocked their path. “What of likenia?” he asked menacingly. She sighed, but she knew this was coming. ‘I will tell you, once I see to my sister, now excuse me,” she said, her voice growing cold. He didn’t move so Gendry bashed his head with the butt of his hammer, knocking him senseless. Gendry trussed him up and stuffed him into a small room off the hall.

    They made it to the chambers without any further incidents. She knocked and was let in by Sam.

    “For fucks sake, Arya. It took you long enough.” Jon said.  The sight of him shirtless, holding his baby warmed her heart. She looked around the room and everyone was here, which was good because she didn’t want to repeat herself.

    “We need to go, now. I bought a ship and crew and they will take us wherever we want to go. But we’re in danger here.” Jon looked confused. “How are we in danger when they just offered us hospitality?” Sam asked.

    “When Bran sent me here to Kill Dany, I needed to get close to her. So, I killed the novice and took her face,” she said nonchalantly. “Gods Arya, we can’t move Dany yet. She just birthed twin babes.” Arya’s eyes got big and then she looked to the bed and saw a sleeping Daenerys and a small bundle. She walked closer and took in the sight of the baby sleeping beside Dany.

    She looked at Jon and a huge grin spread across her face. “Didn’t think you had it in you brother,” she said her playful side coming out for the briefest of moments. “In all seriousness, we need to make use of the offered carriage while they’re still hospitable towards us. Use the sheets to carry her to the wagon, bundle the babes and let’s go Jon. We have to.” She pleaded.

    He nodded his head. He handed the sleeping baby he held off to Sam and rummaged around in his pack for a tunic. He slipped it over his head as he spoke. “Gendry see our weapons and packs to the carriage. Then secure the wagon. Arya, can you return to the chamber and find anything of Dany’s she might want to take?” Arya nodded and they all left to see to their tasks.

    “We have nowhere to go Davos. With two newborns and a woman still in a birthing bed. Where will we go?” He asked. Davos shook his head. “Doesn’t much matter where you go as long as the two of you are together.”  At that, Sam handed the twin back to Jon and motioned For Davos to take up the baby that lie on the bed. “We’re gonna need to use the sheets to move her. I’m going to tie it into a cradle so two people can move her.” As he said that Daenerys stirred and groaned.

    “I will walk,” she croaked out. Throat raw and sore from hours of screaming. She was still naked under the sheets and her lady bits felt as if they were on fire, but she would move about on her own. “I need clothing, and several linen strips to bind myself,” she said. “No need Your Grace,” _So they had taken to calling me Your Grace again?_  “Your womb is packed and doesn’t need to be changed for some hours as the bleeding slowed down,” he explained.

    “Samwell, Dany will do just fine,” she said firmly. She looked to Jon who now held both of their daughters. They said nothing to each other. Talking was too hard. There was so much to say, but so many distractions. Now wasn’t the time to rehash their issues.

    Arya came through the door with a small basket that held a traveling gown and cloak, and her jewelry she had been wearing when Drogon brought her here. And her mother’s ring was at the bottom of the basket. “Thank you, Arya,” she said. Jon sent Davos, Tormund and Gendry from the room. Sam stayed behind to bind her belly, while he started, Jon handed the twins to Arya.

    It wasn’t long before Sam took his leave as well. She was bound from her waist down. The wrappings started just below her breasts and ended at her crotch. It looked ridiculous but when he saw her, he saw her beauty. She was pale, and puffy, but she was beautiful.

    Jon went to where a bowl of water sat and dipped a cloth in it. He began to wash the sweat from Dany’s exposed skin. He said nothing. Occasionally looking in her eyes as he dipped the cloth back in the water. When he got to her face, he smiled and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You cut it,” was all he said.

    Being so close to him, did something to her. She wanted to reach out and touch his face. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to let him hold her. But the memory of him kissing her, then driving his knife into her heart ruined any moments. _How can I forgive him, when I can barely look at him without remembering what he did to me?”_ Jon seemed to sense her thoughts and he drew back a little from her. “I think you’re clean enough to dress now,” He said. He helped her into her gown, draped her cloak about her and put slippers on her feet. He stood up abruptly.

    “Arya stay here until I come for the both of you. I’m going to see Drogon and to make sure everything is coming along as planned.” He stole one last look longing look at her before he kissed each of the twins and left.

   “That was intense. The way you two just stare at each other as if there’s no one else in the world. If your lady bits weren’t mangled from birth, I would tell you two to just go ahead and fuck already,” she said with a shrug.

   Dany sent daggers with her eyes. “That won’t be happening, there’s no love between us any longer. At least not on my part.” Arya walked over to her “I know what my brother did to you, and I’m not saying you should make it easy for him, but, when you love someone, it doesn’t just go away because _you_ want it to go away. A girl knows these things. You can lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to me.”

   Dany regarded her for a moment, saying nothing, but wondering how one so young became so wise.

   Jon entered the room. “Everything is ready.” He said. They walked down the long hall and through the courtyard. At the gate sat a resplendent carriage. Big enough to fit all of them in, it would be a tight fit, but a fit nonetheless. Tormund, Gendry, and Davos opted to follow on horseback, leaving Sam, Jon and Arya to ride in the carriage with Dany and the twins.

   Jon helped Dany inside, he passed her one of the girls and then another, Arya climbed in next followed by Sam and finally Jon. Once they began moving, Jon said to Dany, “Arya has purchased an entire ship, with nowhere to sail it to. I don’t know where to go.”

   Dany thought for a moment, and then she spoke. “We will go to the Isle of Naath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is feeling vulnerable. He has not one but two newborn babies, and they're essentially homeless and on the run. Dany is still weak from the birth. So he's not really in the right head space right now, we will explore some of that next chapter.  
> The next few chapters will be on a boat, and on a boat is where this Jonerys love story started. Maybe we may see some boat sex in the next few chapters. Hint hint. If you enjoyed this drop a comment. If you hated it drop a comment anyway. I like to debate!


	13. If I Could Turn Back Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany talk heavy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So here it is. Jon and Dany talk  
> The twins get named and we find out what they look like.

They renamed the merchant ship _Siren_ to _DragonWolf._  It was a modest ship, with room for about 150 people comfortably. They had 40 crew members on board besides them, so there was plenty of room, and no one lacked privacy.

They remained at the docks for a few days, purchasing provisions for the journey, clothing, nappies and a wet nurse for the babies. Dany was fierce in her wish to nurse them herself, but it was exhausting work, so Sam suggested the nurse only as relief for Dany if she became too tired.

Arya found the woman, recently widowed with a small child of almost two. Sam was surprised that she still had milk until she explained that oftentimes that was all she had to feed her child. A little boy, who she called Tomas. She was glad of the work, and glad that her boy would get a real meal in his belly.

They had enough gold to buy whatever they needed, and upon inspection of the boat, Ser Davos said they would be needing a lot. There were plenty cabins and sleeping quarters, but there were no beds, no furniture, no comforts at all on this boat. It was a merchant ship, and it looked as if every foot of the boat was used for storing goods.

Sam and Davos saw to the purchase of beds, tables, chairs, couches and a cradle big enough to hold both babies. When Arya asked Sam why not get two separate cradles, Sam remarked that twins spent so much time in the womb together, that to keep them apart would be cruel. He was right because as tiny as they were, they always managed to squirm closer together.

They fell into a rhythm after sailing for two weeks. Before dawn Davos would rise and start barking orders to the crew. The cook would begin preparations for the morning meal, the men : Tormund, Gendry, Davos , Sam and Jon would talk and sometimes drink well into the night. Arya Dany and Kiera, the wet nurse, would stay in Dany’s room and help her with the babies.

Jon and Daenerys had fallen into a rhythm of avoidance. Whenever she fell asleep, he would creep into her rooms to hold the babies. They still hadn’t named them yet. And he had no idea how to broach the subject, or any other subject with her. Whenever she looked at him, she got this pained expression on her face, and Jon couldn’t bear to see it, so he made himself scarce.

On their fifteenth night at sea, Jon and Tormund had been in Tormund’s cabin. Everyone had long retired for the night, and there was no movement on the ship. Tormund poured a Jon a cup of strong wine. “When are you going to put your broody bastard moves on your Queen you fool.” Jon glared at him. “What do you think I should say Tormund? Sorry I killed you, let me give you the Lords kiss to make it up to you?” Jon asked, clearly annoyed.

Tormund shrugged. “Well, it’s a start. The ladies do love that bit, don’t they? But saying _anything_ would be better than what you’re doing now. You look at her, she looks at you, and you walk away, or she walks away.” Tormund stared at him. “It’s pathetic. You want her and she wants you. Make it work, King of staring.”

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “Were it that easy old friend. Pour me another, I want to get bloody drunk tonight,” he said. Tormund passed him the wine. “Pour it yourself, you have no servants here,” Tormund said with a laugh.

They passed the wine bottle between them until it was time to open another. Halfway through the second, Jon’s head was starting to spin, an indication that he had had enough. “Tormund, I need to find my bed.” He stumbled as he walked to the door.

“Careful King of Cups, you may stumble into the cabin of a silver haired beauty. Then what will you do?” He laughed. “Probably fall on my sword for her,” Jon said darkly. “Until tomorrow then.”

His feet took him to her cabin as they always did before he retired to his cabin every night. He pushed the door open slowly, lifting it a bit to avoid the noisy creak it made as it swung. He didn’t want to wake her. There was no light, save for the moon, which streamed into the cabin, giving little illumination, but casting giant shadows against the walls. His daughters slept peacefully, so instead of picking them up as he always did, he sat down and stared at the sleeping figure on the bed.

                                                  *****

The door to her cabin opened as it did every night, and she feigned sleep as she always did. However, on this night he did not stand over the cradle of the twins, nor did he pick them up. He sat down right across from where she was ‘sleeping’ and stared at her.

Her heart picked up its pace. She had been waiting for this and dreading it in equal measure. Better to get it done and over with.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she sat up abruptly. “Gods. I thought you were asleep,” He whispered loudly, not wanting to wake the babies. “You think me asleep every night. And every night, I watch you sneak in here like some common thief to steal quiet moments with your children.” She sighed. “It’s your right to see them, Jon. You don’t have to sneak about in the dead of night to do so,” she finished quietly.

“I’m not sneaking, but I didn’t think you wanted to see much of me. So I’ve been giving you space.” She shook her head at that. “You really know nothing do you?” she asked. Jon laughed at that. Not a happy laugh, but a sad one. “You’re not the first woman to say that to me. And apparently the both of you are right. I don’t know anything other than I love you. I know its hard to believe after what happened. But I do, I think I’ve loved you since the cave on Dragonstone,” he said. “And I’ve never stopped,” he added quietly.

“What I did, I did because I thought it was right.” He looked to her, but she didn’t notice because he sat in a shadow. “ When I saw you, I didn’t recognize you, in that moment you weren’t the woman I fell in love with.” He shuddered and drew in a ragged breath. “I should have given you more than a moment Dany. You deserved more than a moment. I should have shown you the same mercy I begged you for.”

Dany came apart at his soft sobs. He was trying to stifle his cries, and he failed miserably. “Neither one of us is blameless,” she said barely above a whisper, voice thick with unshed tears. “I will say it again. Neither one of us is blameless. I know _why_ you did it. You always do the right thing. But none of that changes the fact that I loved you, and would have done anything for you, and you shunned me. You watched me lose everything, and you pulled away.”

“We both lost of our identities, I thought the Iron Throne was mine by Blood, you thought you were a bastard.” She let out a sad chuckle. “How wrong we both were. I found out that everything I had fought for belonged to someone else, and it was someone I loved. Blood of My Blood. That made it something else, because since Viserys was killed, I thought I was alone.”

“A Targaryen, alone in the world is a terrible thing,” Jon said softly.

“Indeed, it is,” she said. “You found out that you were the rightful, trueborn King of the Seven Kingdoms. And you turned from me, even if you were conflicted, you could have said how you feel to me. You didn’t even trust me to do that. So you see, our issues didn’t start and stop in the throne room.” She paused for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “And even then, after all of that, I still chose you. You used that hope of a future with you against me. I don’t think I can ever forget that. Every time you touched me, it would be tainted with the memory of that moment. I don’t hate you, I don’t want to see you dead. It’s quite the opposite. I still love you.”

Jon looked up “When did you suspect you were pregnant? Or did you suspect?” He asked. “Missandei and I agreed that I would tell you when we met at King’s landing, but everything changed. Missandei and Rhaegal dead, Varys trying to poison me. He would have succeeded had I not been very early with child. I knew the food smelled off.”

“So why didn’t you tell me when I arrived at Dragonstone?” He asked, a little loud. “I tried to, but you had already rejected me. And by then what did it matter if I carried your child? You didn’t want me.” She said. He sat forward. “It would have mattered. I was going to come to you after we took he city to tell you that I wanted you. But it was too late.” He said. He changed the subject.

“After the parley with Cersei, you and I stood in the Dragonpit, do you remember?” He asked. “Yes.” She was wondering where he was going this. “You said a witch cursed you, and I told you the witch may not have been the most reliable source of information,” he said as he looked at his daughters. She laughed softly. “It seems you were right.”

One of the babies started moving around and fussing and soon both babies were fussing. I’m too drunk to get up Dany,” he said. She got up and handed him one of the twins. “You can sit and hold her while I feed her sister” she said. She picked up her baby and cooed at her. She unbundled her baby and cleaned her swaddling. Then she pulled down her shift and placed the baby directly on her breast, but holding her directly against her skin. The window was right over her bed, so he saw her perfectly. She looked like a Goddess to him. Bare breasts suckling his child, illuminated by moonlight. He gawked.

She must have felt him staring. “I just like to feel their skin against mine,” she said. “So do I,” he said wistfully. He was struck by how profound this image was. She was never more beautiful to him than she was right now. She took the baby off and got off the bed, “That one needs feeding and this one needs burping.” She said as she switched the babies out with ease. He took his daughter and pat her little back as he watched Daenerys of House Targaryen change soiled nappies and nurse her babes.

“I can help you with this, at night, I mean if you get tired. Maybe I can clean them up and burp them for you.” How often do they wake up at night?” he asked. “Every 2 hours or so.” She said. “Wow. You must be exhausted. I’m sorry I haven’t been much of a help to you. I just thought you didn’t want me around.”

“I didn’t, at least not at first. But you’re here now, so things can change.” She looked at her daughter. A perfect mix of Jon and herself, and she smiled. “They really are gorgeous Jon. They have my eyes but coupled with your coloring the amethyst is a little deeper. Their hair isn’t silver, nor is it black. But its not a dull grey either. They are just perfect.”

“Aye they are. Little Princesses. We have to give them names Dany, they’re near a month old now.” She walked over to the cradle and placed her bundle in it, Jon’s twin had fallen asleep, but he didn’t want to put her down. “You’ll spoil her if you don’t put her down,” He looked at her. “I’m her Father, I’m supposed to spoil her, and her sister.” Reluctantly he did put her down at a stern look from Dany.

He shuffled on his feet for a moment because she was so close but then he faced her fully. “I have something to tell you,” he said.

 _Could it be any worse than you killing me,_ she thought. “So tell me.” He took a breath.

“After what happened, I was forced to take the black, but with the Night King destroyed there was really no need for The Nights Watch. I went to live beyond the Wall with Tormund and Ghost. I was at my lowest point. Drinking more than Tyrion, picking fights, and having lots of meaningless sex. And then I tried to kill myself.” He waited for her response.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that. I’m glad you suffered. You deserved it. What you did when you thought I was dead, I mean I think I would have been more upset if you had fallen in love.” She said.

“I will never love another,” he said as he tried to touch her face, but she jumped at the sudden movement of his hand. _She’s scared of me. She didn’t know if I would hurt her._ Jon saw that reaction before. In men who had been captured, or shell shocked from battle. “Dany, I will never hurt you again.” He put his hands out, he sunk to his knees. “I promise. I swear it. If I could take it back I would. If I could go back in time, I would do everything differently” He cried. She couldn’t help but reach out to him. He nuzzled his head in her belly and sobbed like a baby. Loud, vocal sobs. They broke her heart. It wasn’t long before she sank down on the floor, and cried with him. “If you look back you are lost,” she said to him.

They became a puddle on the floor, devastating and comforting each other at the same time. His hand brushed the wound he caused, and he came apart again. They sat holding each other for some time.

“My arse hurts,” she said. Jon guffawed an awkward laugh. “Aye, mine does too.” He stood first, then helped her to her feet. “I should be going,” he said.  “What if I want you to stay?” She asked.  He brought his hand to her face, and this time she did not jump. “Then I will stay.”

“You have to change into sleeping clothes before you get into my bed,”  
 she said. “We always used to sleep naked, I don’t think I have any sleeping clothes,” he joked. “Well, remove the first layer then.”

They lay next to each other for a while without touching when she grabbed his hand. “I know what I want to name them” she said. He squeezed her hand in response. “What did you come up with?” “Lyanna,” she said softly, “ For our firstborn and Rhaella for our breech baby.”

“After our mothers,” he whispered. “I love it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking. That was too easy. But it won't be. Trust me! Leave a comment if you enjoyed this chapter.


	14. Rock The Boat, Work The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boatsex!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, A short chapter, an interlude, if you will. I struggle with battle and sex scenes so take it easy on me!

This was Arya’s favorite time of night. A few hours past sunset last night, Gendry had come knocking. That night had been full of explanations and declarations. Him telling her he didn’t mean to make her wear dresses and run his keep. He just wanted her, breeches and weapons, all of it. Her telling him how he should have just said that, and that she regretted leaving him. That first night was a chaste one, the fell asleep tangled together fully clothed, but _together._

The second night he came, he claimed her. “You are deadly, but I love you,” he said to her. He sat down on a chair and raked his gave over her. “I will die following you to some war or some adventure, but I will follow you all the same Arya.” He looked down at his feet and whispered “You’re my family.”

       “Oh,” she said awkwardly. “You are maddening,” he growled as he closed the gap between them. He stood face to face with her, so close he could smell her breath. “Tell me Arya, tell me that you will be with me,” he said in a rush of words. Before she could reply, he assaulted her mouth with desperate kisses. She was surprised at his urgency but nipped his bottom lip. She opened her mouth and his tongue probed hers. They fumbled with their clothing desperate not to break contact.

            Finally freed of clothing, Gendry walked her back towards the bed. He nudged her softly and she lay back, as she did so she took in the sight of him.  Broad shoulders, arms corded with muscle and a stomach sculpted beyond reason. She trailed her eyes down his stomach and they settled on his cock. Thick and long, standing at attention beneath a thatch of dark silky hair. She felt her insides coil, and her nub swell with anticipation.

            He climbed over and suckled her pulse point. She moaned and rocked her hips trying to create friction. She felt him smile against her neck. “Not yet,” he whispered thickly. He trailed kisses along her neck as he made his way to her breasts. He gently rolled one in his thumb and forefinger as he watched her.

            Arya had her head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He bent down and lapped at her nipple that had drawn into a taut pebble. “I want you to look at me,” he said. She obeyed. He continued to worship her breasts until she was whimpering, he moved lower and licked and kissed her stomach, parting her legs as he settled himself right in front of her mound, now overflowing with desire. He kissed the inside of each thigh, teasing and torturing her. His finger found its way to her bundle of nerves and traced it lightly with his finger. She cried out and looked down at him, her eyes had become black with want.

            At the slightest touch from him, her desire coiled in her body threatening release. Gendry must have felt it, so he stopped tracing her and spread her with his fingers and blew on her clit. Arya grabbed his head and he pulled back, looking up at her he said forcefully “I said not yet,” and he slipped a finger inside her curling it slightly, stroking that hidden spot that had her cursing and seeing stars.

            She was soaking wet, the sheets beneath collecting and absorbing her pooling moisture. “Say it, Arya” Gendry said as he rubbed her clit with his thumb and sheathed his fingers in her cunt. “Tell me that you’re mine”.

            Arya was lost to pleasure, she couldn’t find any words at all. She wanted to tell him that she was his. But her words got lost amid incoherent curses and shouts of pleasure. He pulled her clit into his mouth and suckled on it, never removing his fingers from her. He felt her tense up and her clit danced on his tongue. A gush of fluid covered his hand and she trembled and bucked. He kept pace with his fingers as she rode out the wave of her climax.

            He climbed up and kissed her, tasting herself on his lips had her hungry for me. She gripped his cock, and the tip was dripping wet. She stroked him with her hand for a moment. His lids became heavy and he pumped his hips to her rhythm.

            All of a sudden he had her legs up so high off the bed that her arse was in the air, with him holding her by both ankles with one hand. He used his other hand to find her entrance and he entered her deep. He lie still for a while, getting used to her tightness around him. Ten slowly he began to grind inside of her, not pulling out, just working that sweet spot.

            Arya clawed his back, and screamed with every twist and turn of his hips, before long she started meeting his thrusts. Soon, their pace became frenzied, and the only sounds to be heard was flesh slapping against flesh, and their moans of pleasure. He felt his climax building, his stones tightened and his belly got warm. “I. NEED. YOU. TO. SAY. IT.” He growled low and deep with every stroke. “I’m yours,” she screamed. “Gendry I’m yours and you are mine,”.

         It sent him over the edge, she found her release at the same time and her contractions milked the last seed from him. She pulled him closer to her and whispered in his ear “I’m yours.”

                                                                      *****

            The last of the hot water had been dumped into the huge copper tub when a short knock sounded on the cabin door. “Come in,” Gendry stepped through the door. “Why don’t you ever ask who it is before you bid me enter?” he asked. Arya smirked, “Because I know it’s always you.” She said, unbuttoning her shirt. “Well you came just in time. Take off your clothes,” she commanded.

            A wicked smile played on his lips as he drank in the half naked sight of her with his stormy blue eyes. He began to undress, never taking his eyes off her. She stepped into the tub and he followed her. She sat between his legs and although he wanted to sit and hold her, His cock had other plans. Growing as soon as their bodies made contact in the water.

            She giggled at the sensation of him nudging into her back. “It doesn’t take much does it,” she said. “You have the effect on me M’lady.” She thumped his thigh hearing his pet name for her. “Well let’s hurry and get clean, so we can get dirty again.”

            They washed with haste and got into the bed dripping wet. They found their rhythm together and they fucked and made love late into the night.

 

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this mini update. Please comment and let me know what you think!


	15. You'll Believe God Is A Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany asks Jon some hard questions  
> Jon goes to church and leaves his sins on the altar  
> Words of WAR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Thanks for sticking with this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Two of the crewmen had just come in and taken the tub out her Daenerys’ cabin. Taking a bath without interruption was a luxury these days. Her daughters lie sleeping peacefully and she was glad to have taken some time to care for herself. She was almost back to her old self. Her belly was almost flat, in large part due to breastfeeding, but the binding of her belly helped as well. Sam had also seen to making her soothing salt and herb baths for her lady bits. She felt healed, it no longer burned when she peed, and it wasn’t sore down there anymore.

She began to oil herself. _Gods it feels good to have all that body hair shorn from me,_ she thought _._ She took her time in the bath, shaving her legs, under her arms and _down there._ Not that she was expecting anything, the hair was just hot and made her smell musky even after she bathed.

The door creaked open and Jon walked in to see Daenerys, with one leg on the bed, spreading oil on her skin. Her arse was to him and he felt a tug in his groin. He cleared his throat because she must have been deep in thought to not have heard him.

She started and turned to look at him. Her arms covered her chest instinctively, then she shrugged and continued to oil herself. He stood transfixed, not moving, just watching.

She slipped into a loose linen shift and sat on the bed. “How many women did you sleep with when you thought I was dead?” She asked. He felt like he had been punched. He was waiting for this. She took the news of him taking other women too easily. “I don’t know, I didn’t really keep track Dany,” he said.

“If you had to guess what would the number be? More than ten, twenty , thirty?” she asked. _She’s jealous,_ he thought. _I best be honest and get this over with._ “More than ten, less than twenty, although I don’t know the _exact number,”_ as he sat down in the chair across from the bed.

He noticed her clenching her fists. She took a deep breath and looked at him. “Nice to know it didn’t take you long to mourn me before you found your way into several cunts,” she said icily. He exhaled slowly, “You do realize, I believed you to be dead, and I was trying not to think about you, because all I did was think about you, or think about joining you by taking my own life, I dreamt of you every night. I even saw you standing at a window in the red temple, and you looked so sad. Your belly was big too.” He finished.

“Don’t do that. I was mourning too, but I wasn’t able to just go out and fuck my feelings away. I had to live with every minute of that pain,” she shuddered and hugged herself as if the memory made her cold. “Dany, I told you that those women meant nothing to me. I’m sorry for my ill treatment of them, but that’s the extent of the feelings they get from me. I used them, and I’m ashamed of it, but I wasn’t myself,” he looked around the room before he continued. “I’m still not myself.” He said quietly.

When she met his eyes again, they shimmered with unshed tears. “The thought of you with other women makes me sick. Picturing you making them feel how you made me feel is enough to drive me crazy,” she cried as the tears ran down her cheeks. “Is it crazy that I’m so upset. You were mine and I was yours, and you gave yourself to several others. Did it mean nothing to you?” She asked between sobs.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Dany. There is no excuse. But you meant _everything_ to me, so much so that I was willing to follow you in death” he said as he rose from the chair and gathered her trembling body in his arms. “I can’t change the past, but I can do better everyday for you.” He looked her in her eyes. “Dany, I’m sorry, what can I say to make it right? What can I do to make all of this up to you?”

“I don’t know. I just want you to do _something,_ Jon. I don’t know.” They looked into each others eyes for what seemed like forever. Dany tilted her head just barely, and Jon wasted no time covering her mouth with his.

Their kiss was slow and sweet. He savored the  taste of her lips and tongue. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, how much he needed her and how much he had missed her. He set an agonizingly slow pace. Dany was frantic and wanted a little more, but he was determined to worship her slowly. He broke their kiss and looked deep into her eyes. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. He kissed the tracks her tears made on her cheeks.

He nuzzled her neck “I’m sorry for all of it,” he groaned into her neck.

She pulled away from him sharply. He looked at her confused. “Did I do something to hurt you?” he asked. She looked at him and shook her head. “How can you be sorry if you can’t even say what it is you’re sorry for? Whenever you mention that day, you say ‘when it happened’ or ‘what I did’ or ‘the throne room’,” she went on “ how can you atone if you cant even name your sin?” her gaze held his for a moment. “I need you to say it. Not I’m sorry for hurting you, not I’m sorry for what happened, but that you’re sorry for plunging your knife in my heart, literally breaking it, and killing me. Say that,” she finished quietly. “I’ve owned my part in this, can you?” She asked.

Jon took a breath to steady himself. When he met her eyes, he saw that she had started to cry again. “I’m sorry that I killed you, I’m sorry that I used your love for me against you. I’m sorry I shattered your faith in me, I’m sorry about the other women.” He pulled her close to him. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you lost Ser Jorah, Missandei and Rhaegal.” He said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you while you carried my children. I have a lifetime of apologies for you, and only one lifetime to make them.”

       As he said the last words, he picked her up and lay her on the bed. “And I will spend my life making it up to you he said, then  he kissed her. Slow and long and deep and desperate. He would start making it up to her now. He would show her what he couldn’t say with words.

He kissed along her neck and stopped at her pulse point. He nipped there and then sucked for a bit before moving lower. He growled as he felt her hands grip his hair urging him lower. He pulled her shift off and started at her breasts. Her nipples were darker than he remembered the last time he had placed his lips on them.

He began to softly the knead the flesh of her breasts when Dany’s arms flew up to cover them. “I’m leaking” she said, almost embarrassed. He nudged her hands away and saw that several streams of milk leaked down the sides of her breasts, some of the liquid  pooling in the valley between her breast with the rest running down the sides.

He licked the milk from the side of her left breast , and stopped when he came to the scar he caused. He kissed it tenderly.  The he dragged his tongue up the side of her breast, across her nipple to the valley between her breasts and licked the remaining milk from her skin. “You’re a God. The power of life leaking from your breasts. I mean to worship in your temple this night,” He looked up at her to see her amethyst eyes burning with desire. Her bottom squirmed and bucked beneath him. She was soaking wet already and her cunt was so engorged that it ached for him.

He trailed soft kisses down her stomach, His tongue tracing the shiny lines that marked her as a mother. He went lower until he was directly in front of her cunt. He could smell her slightly sweet, earthy scent and it drove him crazy. He took his finger and slipped it in her folds, collecting some of her nectar. He put that finger in his mouth and sucked her juices off, never breaking eye contact with her.

By now Dany was audibly whimpering and thrashing about on the bed. He took his other hand and placed it on her stomach to still her. He bent down and teased her folds with his tongue, licking everywhere except where she needed to find release. Finally, he began tracing figure eight’s on her nub and she began to purr in response. He remembered from their previous times together that she only came when he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked on it. He wanted to draw this out. To bring her to the edge and then make it recede, repeatedly. He pulled her into his mouth and before he could stop he felt her clit pulsating  against his lips, her body jerked and she cried out, clamping her legs around his head.  He smiled against her.

She opened one eye. “Sorry, I tried to hold it, but its been so long,” she breathed out. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, and he couldn’t hide his smile. His face was shiny from her juices, but his eyes were inky black as he got serious again. “Do you want more?” He asked. She nodded her head and whimpered weakly, completely at his mercy, since she was naked, and he was still fully clothed.

“You’re not supposed to have clothes on in my bed,” she whispered thickly. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and took his clothes off. He lay on top of her and held her face in his hands. “I love you,” he said as he moved against her.  He moved back down and his fingers found her folds. He stopped at her entrance and looked up at her, asking permission with his eyes. She nodded her assent. Slowly, he entered her with his finger, going in slow circles as he did so. “Am I hurting you,” he asked.

Unable to find words, she shook her ‘no’. “Do you want me to stop?” He rumbled. She shook her head again. He lowered his face to cunt and feasted on her while she wailed and thrashed on the bed. Drawing out her orgasm until she pleaded for release. He obliged her and pulled her into his mouth and licked and sucked until she arched off the bed and screamed his name.

He smiled wickedly at her. He held his cock in the hand that wasn’t buried in her cunt. It was so hard it ached.

Dany sat up and kissed him as she straddled him and pushed him on his back. “Dany wait-“ Jon started but lost his words as she slid down his cock and sheathed him with her tight, hot cunt. She eased down slowly, her entrance still a tad bit sore, until she got used to his length and width inside her. Slowly, she started to wind her hips in a circle. “I missed you so much,” she whispered.

“Aye,” he grunted. “Show me Goddess” she started to go a little faster, but he grabbed her hips to still her for a moment, lest he embarrass himself like a green boy, finishing early. When he calmed down, he turned her over and stroked her long and slow. He went deeper and deeper until he felt her nails raking his back and heard her calling his name over and over again. “Yes Dany, I will never leave you again. This is all for you, I swear it” he growled into her ear.

The sound of his voice, deep and laced with pleasure sent a chill throughout her body. “Yes, my love. Yes Jon,” she cried out, forgetting about the sleeping babies that lay in their cradle. What started out tender and slow, became frantic and desperate, with both of them determined to give the other a physical representation of their love. Words nor deeds could accurately quantify their feelings, but that didn’t stop them from trying. They each found their release at the same time and Jon slumped over her, seed spilling out  as he pulled his limp cock from her.

They were sweaty and sticky but they both felt good. Lighter, as if they left their burdens on the other side of their passion.

“Dany, I was thinking,” Jon said nervously and somewhat out of breath. “Of? “ she asked. “I have to accept my Targaryen birthright, or we have to pick new names because I don’t want my girls or any other babes we may have to be born bastards. Bran has to release me from my vows. So I can marry you” He said.

She thought for a moment before responding. “Do you wish to marry me because you love me or because you want the girls to be legitimized?” she asked. Jon recognized that tone, and he didn’t want to fuck this up. “If I didn’t love you, marriage wouldn’t even be an option. If I didn’t love you, you would not have gotten pregnant, I would never give my seed to someone I don’t love,” he said as he kissed her shoulder.

“I just want everything to be right between us. I want the girls to have a name, I don’t want to live on the run, on this boat forever with my family. I want us to settle down somewhere and be happy.” He said as he kissed her hand. “The lords of Westeros won’t like that,” she remarked.

“Then I will bring the lords of Westeros Fire and Blood for all they’ve taken from us.” He said darkly. She could feel the anger simmering just under his surface. She never remembered him having such a quick temper. It almost scared her. “Your sister Sansa took the most from us,” she said quietly. He was quiet for a moment. But only a moment.

 “As I said Dany, Fire and Blood.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said I would wait BUT I couldn't. Fight me IDC. I have other important stuff to get in the story so i needed them to reconnect on an emotional and physical before all the action stuff starts happening.Jon's proposal - it's still goofy ass Jon of course he would make that harder than it needed to be. The North should be worried because the Dragon is starting to wake in Jon.


	16. What’s Beef???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds a sparring partner  
> Dany and Grey Worm  
> Jon and Grey Worm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I struggled with this chapter and the small amount of action. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

    They were a few hours away from Naath. The sun had yet to rise and Jon’s nerves had him on the deck of the ship, looking at the small dot of land that grew closer. He wasn’t looking forward to facing Grey Worm. The last time the man had seen him, murder was in his eyes, and if it were up to him, his head would be somewhere rotting on a pike. He turned at the stound of footsteps approaching.

  
“Davos,” Jon said in greeting. “What are you doing up before the sun, lad?” Jon ran his palm across his face. “Couldn’t sleep. We’ll be dropping anchor and I have a feeling I will be fighting for my life before the day is over,” He said.

  
Davos turned from him and faced the sea. “Do you think your Queen would let him kill you? I mean if she told him to stand down he would listen,” Davos remarked. “Aye, he would listen, but I don’t need her to save her me. If he challenges me, I will fight him, and it will be a fight to the death,” he said as he flexed his sword arm. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper fight,” he said.

  
Davos looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, we’re all travel weary and in need of respite and solid ground.” Davos said. Jon chuckled.

“What’s so damn funny?” “Never thought I’d see the day when the seven kingdoms stealthiest smuggler would get tired of sailing,” Jon said. “I’ve been assisting one man or another in one war or another for over 25 years, since The Rebellion. Sailing isn’t the only thing I’m tired of.”

Jon felt guilty for bringing him here. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry yourself after this old man. I lost my sons fighting for Stannis, but I’ve gained another,” he put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I’m right where I want to be, son.”

  
“Besides, where can you find an old fart that whittles baby toys as well as me?” He barked a laugh, clapped Jon on the back once more, and left him to his thoughts.

  
He wasn’t alone for long before Arya stood by his side. “Are you nervous brother?”  
“Aye, only a fool wouldn’t be nervous, he said.” She kept her gaze on the horizon. “You shouldn’t be. I’m the most dangerous woman in the world.” And she walked away.

  
She probably is the most dangerous woman- no person- in the world. She would make a good sparring partner, he thought. “Arya,’ he shouted to her back. She stopped but didn’t turn around. “How about a sparring session before we dock? I need to loosen up a bit,” he said as he rolled his shoulders.

  
He couldn’t see it, but a huge grin shattered her aloof detached face. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said.

  
She broke into a run and drew needle all at once and when she got close to Jon she dropped and slid, striking at his legs. He parried the blow and she didn’t even see how he had time to draw his weapon. She spun her legs and leapt up, swiping at his abdomen as she gained her feet. He swatted her sword to the side as if he were chastising a baby. She continued to press him, and he continued to bat her strokes away.

  
The sweat was starting to sting her eyes. She didn’t know how long they sparred, but the sun was up, and a crowd had gathered. “You’re small and fast, use that to your advantage. You will not overpower me sister,” Jon started to press his attack, forcing her to take several paces backwards. Each time she parried his strikes, the impact jarred her arm up to her shoulder. Gods, he’s strong, she thought. And fast.

  
At that thought, a blow knocked Needle from her grip and he held his sword to her neck. “Do you yield?” He asked. She laughed and bent her body backwards, and twisted out of the way. She snatched needle from the deck and took her stance again.

  
“Fetch my staff,” she called to Gendry, who was now among the observers. He ran down to get the weapon he made for her when they were waiting for the White Walkers. He ran back on deck and tossed it to her. Even though she was in the middle of blocking a strike she caught it with her right hand.

  
She dropped Needle and spun the staff several times. Jon smiled and adjusted his stance. ‘Smart move get some distance so I can’t get close enough to land anything on you,” he said. At this he dropped Longclaw and drew his two short swords. Arya separated her staff into two and looked like a dancer as she spun and twirled out of the way of his blows.

  
Near an hour later, the match was deadlocked, with no ending in sight. “Gods, it’s a draw already, and we’re near enough now to drop anchor and board the skiff,” Davos said.

  
Arya spun away for good measure and bowed before Jon. “None of that,” he said as he took the water offered to him. “You could best many a man Arya. You’re good.” Jon got quiet for a moment. Arya noticed his sudden shift in mood. “Bloody hell, you’ve gone and got all broody on me. What is it?”

  
“You’re an excellent fighter Arya. You only get that good if you’ve had to fight for your life.” He turned to her, pained expression on his face “It devastates me to think about what happened to you, that you got so good.”

  
Arya looked at him. “That match wasn’t a draw. You were holding back. You’ve gotten better as well.” She walked away from him and Gendry fell in step behind her. Jon raised his eyebrows at that. I shall have a word with Gendry, he thought.

Daenerys found him on the deck of the ship. He stank of sweat. “We’ll be  
boarding the skiff soon. You should clean up.” She said to him. He snorted. “I’m only going to get sweaty again. Do you really think Grey Worm will let me leave this island unscathed?” He asked. “I will tell him to stand down,” she said quickly.

  
He shook his head. It didn’t matter what she said to Grey Worm, once he challenged him, he would be pressed to fight him, or seem weak that Daenerys had to intervene on his behalf. “You don’t understand Dany,” he said, slightly annoyed.

  
She narrowed her eyes. “Then make me understand, because all I see is someone looking for a fight.” With that she stormed away from him, going back towards her cabin.

He gathered his weapons and left to get ready.  
He was below deck walking to his cabin, where all his things were, as the move to Daenerys’ cabin wasn’t yet official, when he spotted Tormund.

  
“King of Swords, “ he bowed dramatically. “You’re bloody good with Longclaw, but you’re even better when you fight with two swords. You fight like a real Northern Savage,” he said loudly. “You will not give that cockless cunt an easy victory.”

  
“Aye Tormund, “ Jon said but didn’t break stride, that cockles cunt is one of the best fighters I’ve seen in a long time, he thought darkly as he reached his cabin.

  
He washed with water that sat at a small table and began to dress. He donned his gambeson , greaves , and gauntlets. The last to go on were his gorget and sword belts. He strapped longclaw around his waist and buckled his two short swords on his back, slipping his dagger in the small sheath the sword belt held.

  
He intended to send a message. He didn’t want to fight Grey Worm, but would if pressed.

  
As he made for the door, it opened and Dany slipped inside. “Jon,” she called out, almost a whisper. He met her eyes. Things had been tense between them despite their recent intimacy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she wouldn’t or couldn’t tell him. It left him on edge and she seemed to sense that.

  
She crossed the room and stood directly in front of him. “Ser Davos and I are going to the island alone. We will bring Grey Worm back to the ship,” she said as she watched his face for a reaction.

  
“Why,” was all he said. She shook her head. “I need to see Grey Worm first. I need to talk to him and tell him what happened before he sees you,” she explained. “If He were to see you, it would be a fight.” She finished.

  
“So let it be a fight then.” He leveled his dark gaze at her. There was fire and fury in his eyes. “Why are you so determined to kill him. Grey Worm is loyal to me. He always has been.” The accusation hung in the air thick as smoke. Jon bristled at her words. “I don’t want to fight, Dany,” he said. “My guard is up is all,” he paused. “You do what you need to do then. I’ll go see my children.” He walked away and left her standing in the room without a backward glance.  
*****  
The butterflies in her stomach felt more like dragons. The closer they got to land the more she felt like she had to vomit. She was fully shrouded in white silk. Her face and head covered, leaving only her eyes exposed. She didn’t want the other unsullied to recognize her, lest panic set in. They were fearless, but a superstitious lot.

  
They came ashore and saw several unsullied guarding the beach. Davos looked to her, How’s it go again?” He asked her. “Thorgha nudha,” she answered.

  
The unsullied approached, in lock step with spears leveled at them. “Thorgha Nudha,” Davos shouted. A man stepped from among them and approached. She couldn’t tell who it was, the man had his helm on.

“You. Westerosi?” The unsullied asked. “Yes,” Davos answered. The unsullied turned and ran back beyond their shield wall.

  
Dany and Davos waited for some time, when finally she spotted the familiar, severe gait, Hands clasped behind his back and head up. He stopped in front of them. “Why you here? Why come all this way?” Grey Worm asked without a hint of familiarity or warmth in his tone. Davos looked to Daenerys, who stood a few paces behind him.

  
Grey Worm followed his gaze. He regarded the woman then spit on the sand. “Unsullied have no use for woman,” he growled.

  
Daenerys walked over to him. “Thorgha Nudha” she whispered. At the sound of her voice Grey Worm went pale and he dropped his spear and shield. Sensing he was about to bow, she stopped him, “Not yet, we have many things to discuss,”she said as she turned on her heel and made her way to the skiff.

  
Grew Worm stared as he sat across from her on the small boat. “My Queen, I don’t know this thing. You die. Snow say he kill you.” He explained. “He never kill you? I never see body,” he continued.

  
“He put his knife in my heart, and I died in his arms,” she rushed. “Drogon brought me the the Red Temple in Volantis, and I was resurrected. I stayed there some time, until Jon came to save me.” She watched as his head whipped up at the sound of his name, and he spit overboard. “This one doesn’t care if he saved you. It’s his fault. Everything.” He said coldly.

  
“That’s not all. Daario came to kidnap and ransom me to the masters when I was pregnant with Jon’s children,” she watched as Grey worm regarded her suspiciously. “How this possible? You dead.”

  
“I was pregnant when I died, and the magic used to resurrect me brought my children back as well.” She finished.

“Mother of dragons now mother of baby,” he said quietly.  
“Missandei say many babies without father, Mother on Naath. I tell her we will be father and mother to them. Then they kill her,” he said quietly. He looked to the ship that was now much closer, so close that she saw one of the crewmen throw down a line to hoist them up.  
“Where is he, my Queen” he asked of Jon. She looked at him and said “ waiting for us.”  
********  
Jon paced nervously on the deck as he watched the skiff approach their ship. “You’ll wear a hole through the wood the next time you pass, “ Tormund remarked.

  
“Really Jon, I don’t know why you’re so nervous. He sees that she’s not dead, so the origin of your tension is a moot point,” Arya said with a shrug of her shoulders.

  
Jon shook his head in frustration. “You don’t understand, Dany May be able to forgive me, somewhat, but Grey Worm never will. I killed the woman who gave him his freedom.” He paused to look at each of them who stood there, Arya, Tormund, Gendry, and Sam.

“She could have burned the world down and he would never have betrayed her. He will never trust me and I fear no matter what she says, he will try to kill me the first chance he gets.” He finished.

  
Arya took her dagger from her hip and threw it at a post, striking true. “He will have to kill us all first,” she said as she looked to him. “ Aye, she will” said Gendry. Tormund just nodded, all sense of humor gone, his jaw flexing with the tension he felt.

  
“Who let the old man row?” He asked. “Let’s get this shit over and done with already.” He walked off in a storm of impatience and left Jon and the others to wait.

*****

A few minutes passed and Daenerys climbed on deck, followed by Davos and finally Grey Worm. At the sight of him, all of Jon’s muscles coiled in anticipation. Grey Worm walked over to him and punched him in the face. Jon’s head whipped left and he spit blood. He did not strike back. He looked past Grey Worm and saw Daenerys regarding him with the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. She’s amused by this, he thought with a hint of scorn.

  
“That will be the last time you lay a hand on me Grey Worm. Peace, for the sake of Our Queen.” He said as he grabbed the hilt of his sword. Grey Worm took two steps and stood face to face with Jon, so close he could feel the breath leaving his nostrils.

  
“A queen you killed, a queen you betrayed. Left Dothraki and unsullied with nothing” he said. “I should have killed you when I had chance.” He spit. Jon flexed his jaw, bristling but not backing down “And if you had we wouldn’t be here and the Queen would be prisoner. But you still have a chance,” he challenged as he stared him down.

  
Grey Worm never broke his gaze. “My Queen, permission to kill your enemy,” he asked.

  
There was a brief pause, but too long for Jon as he looked at her. Come on Dany, what the fuck are you trying to do? “No. He is not my enemy, he is the father of my children. And we came to you for help, not more fighting.” She said.

  
Reluctantly, he took a step away from Jon. “ You lucky this day, traitor,” he spat. “Betray her again, you die” he said as he walked to stand by Dany’s side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Grey Worm sizes up Jon and promises to kill him. Let me know what you think!


	17. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty Smut  
> A dream of dragons and wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I find myself struggling with where to send Jon and Dany next. Do they go back to Essos or Westeros? We shall see where the chapter following this one leads. I'm open to all suggestions but they cannot settle on Naath, not unless they want chunks of flesh falling off their bones. I wrote this chapter over 5 times and finally just decided to add some smut and emotion to bring jon and dany back together.

      Dany held Rhaella at her breast when Jon finally came to her cabin for the night. She could tell he was angry. He had avoided her most of the day. She couldn’t blame him, she could admit when she was being petty, and she was. Seeing the fierce loyalty of Grey Worm made her a little mad at him. Just a little, as she started to worry that he would take to sleeping in his own cabin after that debacle on deck.

 

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said as she stroked the soft hair on Rhaella’s head. “I almost didn’t,” was his gruff reply. He took his off his boots and armor, then sat down and fixed his gaze on her.

 

     “You made a show of choosing to let me live,” he hissed. She stood and placed Rhaella next to a sleeping Lyanna, and turned to him, no longer soft and maternal, but cold and hard. “It was no show.”

 

His stomach dropped to the floor as she continued. “It was no show because a part of me hates you for what you did to me. That part of me wants to see you suffer.” Her voice grew heavy and thick with emotion. “But there’s another, bigger part of me that needs you. Like I need the air and the sun. And I’m angry at myself for letting you back in. But I can’t help it.” She finished.

 

She looked at him to see any sort of reaction. She couldn’t read his face; the only sign of anger was the continued flexing of his jaw. “You seem to forget what actions moved my hand in the first place Dany. I have cause to be angry as well. You burned thousands. I saw them. I was there, and you nearly killed your men in the process. We barely made it out of the city with our lives Dany,” he said.

 

“I was going to reason with you when I came to you. But you weren’t there. But I stand with you now and I’ve never mentioned your actions that day. As you said, neither of us are blameless. But I’ve forgiven you, Dany. Why don’t I get a second chance? Am I not worth it?” he pleaded. “I’m not saying you’re not allowed to feel, or have anger.”

 

He drew in a breath and continued, as he walked to where his daughters lay looking over them as he spoke his next words. “If we are to be together, then we need to be together, especially in front of anyone who isn’t us. You can’t hesitate because I would never hesitate to choose you, even if I was cross with you.”

 

When he looked at her his eyes held so much sadness, it almost stopped her heart. “I know what it is to be betrayed by those you love and trust with your life. When I came back, I killed those that killed me and called it justice.”  He looked at his hands and then at her. “I won’t hold it against you if its too much for you,” he said quietly, defeated.

 

She thought of their first meeting. He was stubborn and disrespectful, but he was true. Of all the things he was, he was good. For all that he had done, he had done the right thing, and never for selfish reasons. Knowing all of that didn’t change the way his knife felt when it pierced her heart. She wanted to tell him that all was forgiven, right now in this moment, but she would never lie.

 

“I will always choose you, I just need time to come to that place of healing. I’m not there yet. I want to be, and I believe one day I will. “ She stood in front of him, and looked down at him. “I want this to be easy and if I’m being honest, I wish we could go back to before the crypts.” She lifted his chin, so he met her eyes and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “We can’t go back, only forward. We must learn to trust each other again. “ She said.

 

“We do,” he said and nuzzled her belly and breathed in her scent. She smelled of lavender and something  earthy, distinctly her. His desire began to coil in the pit of his stomach, and he pulled her down to his lap and sought her mouth with his own. He probed her mouth with his tongue then sucked on her bottom lip. She moaned softly into his mouth, which sent him over the edge. He stood up with her in his arms to lay her on the bed. He began to undress, never taking his eyes off her. “If you want to keep that gown you best take it off, because left to me I will rip it” He growled.

 

      She nodded her head and scrambled to untie her laces. “I can’t get to the laces” she breathed. She turned around and he ripped them all the way down. He climbed over her and gently pushed her to her stomach. He began kissing her pulse point, making his way down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat as she trembled beneath his touch.

 

     Gently he parted her legs and found her folds, already sick with desire. Placing his hands under her stomach, he wordlessly bid her to arch her back. She did as she was told, submitting to his will. He covered her mound with his mouth and his need, his _hunger_ for her shocked her. She surrendered herself to the pleasure he gave her. Licking and teasing and sucking. She felt him ease one finger, then another deep inside her and she bit her hand to stifle her cries.

 

     He flipped her on her back. “I would hear you. Don’t hold back, cum for me Dany,” he breathed over mound, now dripping and aching for release. He went back to her and sucked her clit into his mouth while stroking her with his curved finger.

 

     She felt it building within her, and finally her release came like a flood. Her whole body shook with pleasure and she cried out, primal screams that came from somewhere deep inside her.

 

   He felt her contract around his finger, and it took every bit of self control he had not to plunge into her.  His cock throbbed with anticipation, but he was determined to make this last.

    Her nerves were still firing but she wanted more. “I would have you inside of me” She rasped. He suckled the inside of her thigh, content to torture her but little by little he became undone by her throaty moans. He placed her legs on his shoulders and sheathed himself deep inside her. She clawed at his back as her stroked her slow and deep. She found his rhythm and raised her hips to meet him, taking him deeper every time.  “I’ve missed you Dany. I’ve missed _this.”_ He growled. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll never leave.”

 

     Her pleasure was too great that she couldn’t find the words, so she nodded. Jon stopped moving within her, “I need you to say it,” he said as he started stroking her slowly again. “ _Look_ at me and say it.”

 

       She opened her eyes “I will never leave you,” she cried out. He cupped her arse and flipped so she was on top, never breaking their contact. He watched as something primal took over Dany. She began rocking her hips and when he grabbed her hips to control her pace she pushed him away. “My turn,” she said. “Did they ride you like this?” she asked with a hint of jealousy. Now it was his turn to be at a loss for words. “Tell me, did they make you feel like this?” She demanded.

 

       He lasted but a minute more. The look in her eyes and the sound of her voice finished him. He sat up and grabbed her to him and he stroked her fast and hard, feeling her heartbeat as he found his release. “Gods,” he screamed as his seed spilled into her. She ground her hips milking every drop he had.

 

       She pulled away from him and kissed him long and deep. They lay back, spent and sweaty, still punch-drunk from their love making. “I love you, Jon”

 

   “And I love you.” He turned on his side to face her and he kissed the tip of her nose. She settled against him, her face against his neck breathing in the scent of him. “I could stay like this forever,” she whispered.

 

  He chuckled softly, “Anchored in the middle of the sea? No, I will give you and our children a proper home. A ship is no place to raise children,” he said. She thumped his chest. “You know what I meant. And home is wherever you are. We could be at sea, in the saddle, or halfway around the world.  With you is where I want to be.”

 

     He squeezed her tighter to him not wanting to let her go. He thought of all the times he held himself as he cried for her when he was beyond the wall, and how he had been overcome with grief, sadness and regret. “What are you thinking?” she asked him. “How lonely I was. How hopeless it all seemed. I thought that I would freeze my balls off in the North. Never to have a wife or a child.” He stroked her hip lazily. “It’s surreal to now have both, although you have yet to accept my  proposal,” he said sheepishly.

 

“Sometimes I think that this isn’t real. That one day I may wake up and all of this would have been a dream. I don’t ever want to feel that loneliness, that _emptiness_ ever again, Dany.” He hugged her even tighter and she felt the desperation in his embrace. “But I am real.”

 

   She took his hand and placed it on her heart. “My heart yet beats, you can feel me, and I’m not going anywhere. But I know of grief as well.” She paused. ‘When I came back, I was lost. I was angry they brought me back, because I had to live with the pain of how I died. It made me hate life. But one day, I felt a soft flutter. A gentle reminder that life goes on, a piece of you inside of me, continued to grow and thrive despite my daily wish for death. When I felt my children, I decided to choose life. It wasn’t easy. Not at all. Some days I still suffer, but it gets easier,” She finished.

 

            “I asked you to forgive me, but the truth is, I haven’t forgiven myself. I don’t think I can.” He said. She didn’t know what to say, so she tried to get up and his grip tightened around her. “Loose me, we need to wash.”

 

Reluctantly, he released her. She returned to the bed with a cloth and pushed him onto his back. She wiped his thighs, and then his cock, which started to respond to her attentions. She flicked her tongue at the bead of moisture that escaped his cock and he hissed. “What are you doing?” growled. “Exactly as I please,” she smiled wickedly. She licked the underside of him with one swipe of her tongue from base to tip, which strained out beyond his foreskin. She used her tongue and swirled figure eights on the tip. Slowly she relaxed her throat to allow more of him in. She bobbed up and down using tongue and suction to make him thrash and moan incoherent curses and incomplete sentences.

 

    He grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, so that she sat on his face. She lost her concentration and moaned around his cock as he pulled her clit into his mouth. “Focus Dany,” he said so low his voice made her womb tremble.

    She tried to focus but failed as his attentions sent her careening over the edge of bliss into oblivion. She scrambled off him and he flipped her over, so her arse was in the air. She looked back at him as he positioned himself and was aroused at the sight of him. He plunged into her, hard and fast. She felt him touch the entrance to her womb on the first stroke and she cried out in pain and pleasure. “You. Don’t. Know. What. You. Do. To. Me.” He said each word with a stroke. His voice, the deep timbre of it, threatened to finish her. She tried to hold on but didn’t last much longer.

 

    He felt her contract around his length, her body started to shake, and his thrusts became relentless until he found his own release.

 

            Just as he finished, Lyanna stirred in the cradle. “Should we call the nurse for her?” Dany asked. “No, nothing stirs my desire like seeing you nurse your children,” he said as he planted a kiss on her neck and extracted himself from her.

 

            He took up a clean cloth and gave it to Dany so she could wash herself and he did the same. When he was clean he threw on a tunic and picked his daughter up. “There, there little one. Mama’s almost ready,” he cooed at her.

 

            Lyanna looked up at him, eyes bright and gave him the faintest of smiles. Jon burst out laughing. “Dany, she just smiled at me I think,” he said. She chuckled. “Sam did say they would be smiling soon.” Seeing him with his children swelled her heart. _Everything she needed was here in this cabin,_ she thought as Jon handed her over to be fed.

 

      “What else did Sam say?” Jon asked. “He said unless I want another babe I should be drinking moon tea if we become intimate again because a woman can get with child easily after bearing a child between the time she finishes bleeding from the birth and her regular moon blood.” She said.

 

    He raised an eyebrow at this. “Have you been taking it?” She looked away from him. “No but I didn’t think we would be doing this. So soon.”

 

      The thought of her having his child again made him giddy. But the reality of their situation hit him like a mailed fist to the gut. They were homeless save for the ship, if she did get pregnant now he had nothing to offer them but his sword and a meager purse that was given to him in King’s Landing.

 

            “This upsets you,” she asked as she handed him the baby to burp. “The thought of you with my child could never upset me. But this ship can’t be our home, we have to settle down somewhere while we bide our time.” He said.

 

    Lyanna finally drifted off to sleep and he put her in her cradle. He blew out the candle on his way to the bed and crawled in next to Dany. “Let’s get what little rest we can before Rhaella wakes.” He molded his body to hers and before long sleep took them both.

     

_It was hot and sand covered everything for miles. ‘Where the fuck am I?’ he thought. ‘The Tower Of Joy, where you were born’ a voice sounded behind him._ _‘Father?’ He said as he turned to face the man who raised him. ‘I suppose the more accurate term is Uncle, but I raised you as a son and you will always be a son to me’ Ned said as he gathered him in a strong embrace. ‘But how am I seeing this? Am I dead?’ Jon asked overwhelmed with emotion. Tears flowed down his face that he didn’t bother to wipe._

_‘You are blood of the dragon, dragon dreams are both a blessing and a curse to the Targaryens.’ A silver haired man said as he stepped from the shadow of the tower. ‘Rhaegar?’ Jon asked. He looked at him, this man looked so much like Dany that it scared him. ‘Yes son.’ A woman appeared next to Rhaegar as if she had been standing there all along. She looked at Jon with the same love and joy that Dany looked at her daughters.’_

_M-mother,” He stammered. He didn’t need to ask who she was. She was beautiful, with wild dark hair and a smile dancing behind her eyes. ‘Yes Aegon,’ she answered. ‘Aegon,’ he repeated. ‘I can never get used to that name’ he said as he looked from Ned to Lyanna. He didn’t want to hurt the man who raised him. ‘There’s power in a name. You need to claim your heritage so you can claim your power,’ Ned said. ‘But I will always be a Stark.’ Jon replied._

_“You are as much Stark as you are Targaryen. You never had to choose. You have the most noble blood in all the seven kingdoms The blood of the first men,’ Lyanna said. ‘And the  blood of old Valyria. You are the song of Ice and fire.’ Rhaegar finished._

_“War was easier than daughters, I always said it and now those words ring truer than ever. We came to you to warn you.’ Ned said ominously._

_‘Warn me of what?’_

_It was Lyannas turn to speak. “ You had visions of twin flames and Daenerys. But those visions were given to you by the Three Eyed Raven. Sansa suspected that Daenerys was still among the living. She asked Bran to confirm. But you were allowed to go so they could charge with treason and deserting your vows. You, Daenerys, and your children are a threat to Sansa, but your children are a threat to the three eyed raven.’_

_‘He is no longer my son. Brandon Stark died beyond the wall, the Night King passed his essence on to him years before the battle of Winterfell when Bran was in a greenseeing vision. They must both be stopped. Sansa is no longer the sweet girl I knew. She is manipulative and conniving. The raven is almost omnipotent. Able to see almost everything at once, except your mind.’_

_‘Targaryens have a connection with one another that goes beyond anything you’ve experienced. Our blood calls to blood. Sometimes if the bonds are forged in love and something more, words aren’t needed to communicate. You can feel the thoughts, hear them in your head just as if they were spoken out loud. But you must accept who you are. That is the only way,’ Rhaegar said._

_‘You take 25 years to come to me. I’ve been a bastard my whole life and now you choose your grand reveal?’ Jon shouted. ‘I didn’t choose the how or why my son, you did. I’m here now because you wanted me here, now. I suppose it’s never happened before because you thought yourself a bastard and was ignorant of who you really were,’ He said as he cast an accusatory glance at Ned._

_‘We’ve been over this,’ Ned said. ‘Sister, tell him to speak sense,’ he finished crossly._

_‘It’s no secret why the circumstances of your birth were kept secret. But now isn’t the time to reopen old wounds. Aegon, you must gather your strength, before the cold winds blow once more.’_

_‘Embrace who you are. You are Aegon of house Targaryen, sixth of his name and rightful ruler of the realm. You are a dragon. Be a dragon’ Rhaegar said._

_‘Tell Arya I know she will never be some Lords wife, but she doesn’t have to be a lady to have love, and that I am proud of her’ Ned said to him. He embraced him again, ‘You also have made me proud, son’._

_Rhaegar looked to him and said ‘I’m sorry for not being there for you, I have many regrets, but the biggest is seeing all you’ve suffered knowing I was the cause of it.’ Tears flowed freely from Lyanna and Rhaegar. The embraced him and Jon choked back sobs. ‘You have to protect them,’ his mother said._

            Jon opened his eyes and turned to Dany. The moonlight illuminated her sleeping face. He got out of bed and walked over to the cradle where the babies lay.

I _will_ protect them he vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we now know that Bran orchestrated the visions that jon had, and set him up so he can charge and execute him. The plot thickens. Please comment with feedback and suggestions.


	18. Legacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Hatchlings and travel plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank the amazing readers of this fiction. This is a quick chapter that serves as a table setting. Hope you enjoy.

_Mother._

Drogon was close. Dany felt her child near, and then far, over the weeks while they were at sea. Since they dropped anchor at Naath, Drogon  seemed farther away. Today, however, her child was so close, her blood warmed and thrummed in her veins. She could feel the anxiety in her child, it made her worry.

            She went to the deck of the ship to watch the skies for the familiar shadow in the sky. She watched and waited.

            Moments later, Jon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to lean against his chest. “Drogon,” he said. Dany turned to look at him with a question in her eyes. “Ever since I let him in, I’ve been able to feel him, sometimes his presence is barely there, sometimes it’s stronger. Right now, I feel like he’s right here. It won’t be long,” he finished as he nuzzled her hair.

            He was glad the dragon finally decided to touch down. Dany had told him of her dragon dream and Drogon laying eggs. He would believe it when he saw it. And if he saw it, that would put his own dream into perspective. Dany had worried about her first child incessantly since reaching Naath. They had been here for almost two moon turns, in limbo, figuring out their next move. 

      “Drogon isn’t a _he_ or a _she,”_ she chuckled. “Aye, I guess not,” he said. Just then a great shadow descended upon the boat. They each looked up as Drogon hovered above them for a moment to look them over. He then landed on the beach, the Unsullied guarding the coast didn’t even flinch as he landed.

      Jon, Dany, Sam and Grey Worm boarded a skiff and set out to row the short distance to the island. The dragon’s cries set Jon’s nerves on edge and he rowed faster. They reached the island, and saw Drogon wasn’t laying nor was the dragon standing. He was hovering on his hind legs. Before they could reach him, he laid down, seemingly at ease. They had to walk a few yards to reach him.

            Dany approached Drogon slowly, speaking to him in soothing tones in her mother tongue. Drogon raised his wing to reveal four large eggs. One was a purple so dark, it was almost black with hints of the deepest red Jon had ever seen. Another had the coloring of Rhaegal, while another was snow white. The last favored its sire, black and red dragon scale.

            Dany extended an arm to touch one and Drogon hissed at her. She snatched her hand back in surprise but smiled at the fierceness of Drogon to protect the young. She knew what that felt like, and didn’t hold it against her child. She turned to Sam, “I’m afraid we troubled you for no reason, the eggs are laid already,” she said as she pointed to them.

            Sam and Jon inched closer and admired the size and coloring of the eggs.  “I didn’t expect there to be four of them,” Jon said. “We’ll have more Dragons than people to ride them,” he continued. Dany smirked and Sam said, “Oh I think you two will remedy that situation soon enough,” as he winked at Dany.

            “Unfortunately, we have to stay here until they hatch. Drogon won’t let anyone near those eggs, and we won’t be able to bring them on the ship.” She said. “How long does it take for the eggs to hatch?” Jon asked. Dany chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not sure, when I hatched them, they had turned to stone. These eggs are fresh, so maybe a fortnight if we’re lucky,” she said.

            ‘Well, what’s a fortnight then? Has Grey Worm decided if he stays or comes with us?” Sam asked. He had grown accustomed to the bristly man’s presence aboard the ship. He had taken to guarding Dany and the children, standing sentry outside her cabin door. Eyes narrowing and taking a bit too long to step aside for Jon as he found his bed every night.

            Jon and Grey Worm had come to an uneasy understanding. Once Grey Worm saw him with his children, it seemed to ease his mind a bit, he was still untrusting, but less likely to slit Jon’s throat. “Yes, Grey Worm and his unsullied will sail with us to Lys.” Dany said.

 The decision to go to Lys hadn’t been made lightly. They explored all options, and heading back to Essos made the most sense. It was too dangerous for them to go back to the North or Dragonstone.

Once they set foot on Westerosi soil, _any_ move they made would be a declaration of war. So, Lys it was. They had a King’s Ransom in gold and could buy a palace or a castle, or both. The climate was agreeable, and the land fertile. They would have time to regroup.

“We should be getting back,” Dany said interrupting  his thoughts.  She looked to Grey Worm, who had been commanding his men to prepare for a journey, catching his eye, he gave a final command and met his Queen. “I tell Unsullied to prepare to sail, My Queen. “ Grey Worm said as he  walked towards the skiff. “Thorgha nudha, you don’t have to guard me, I want you with me, you’re the only one who remains from that other life,” she went on “You are family to me, more than just Unsullied. Do you understand?” 

His posture softened, just a little. “I understand. You will never be hurt again, My Queen”. This was his way of reciprocating her love, staying loyal , and guarding her. She would be content with the little he was able to show. “I know,” she said as her gaze settled on Jon. He and Sam talked in hushed tones as they regarded Drogon from a distance.

They sat in silence as Jon rowed them back to the ship, but every time he glanced at Dany, she was staring at him. There was amusement in her eyes and a small smirk played at her lips. Jon chuckled to himself as he wondered what she was thinking.

                                                 *****

“I will follow the King of Misfortune til the end,” Tormund bellowed. “Somehow, this fucker _always_ makes it to the other side.” Davos and Gendry looked at each other and laughed. It was barely midday, but with nothing much to do, Tormund was halfway in his cup already.

“That fucker killed his woman, and then he saved her and got two sprouts,” he said as his tone of voice escalated a bit. “My baby crow has suffered, but he keeps on fighting.” He finished.

Humorous as the spectacle was, Davos had to admit there was truth to his words. He wondered what the odds were that not one, but _two_ people were resurrected by the Lord of Light, who happened to love one another, and happened to share relation. The thought of what  that implied sent a tingle throughout the old man’s body.

 _Had the Targaryen’s won the Rebellion, those two would have been raised together, or at least bethrothed. Fate has a way of working itself out,”_ He thought sadly. He didn’t know what the future held for those two, but he prayed it wasn’t more misery.

                             ******

The sun was setting, and everyone was seated around a table in Jon’s cabin.  ”We will go to Essos, as we’ve already said. But each of you will have to decide what you’ll do,” Jon said. He looked to Gendry, “You are the Lord of Storms End, you _have_ to go back at some point,” he said as he watched Arya for a reaction, which she didn’t give. He turned back to Gendry, who was now looking at Arya for some direction. “I know I need to go back, but I don’t intent to be away from Arya for long,” he said as he raised his head and met Jon’s eyes.

“I thought not,” Jon said. “If you thought I was going to _let_ you go without me, you’re dumber that I thought,” Arya said. “We’ll not go right away. I would see you settled first,” she said to Jon, who needed his head in understanding.

“Sam, your family is in King’s Landing, I know you want to be getting back to them.” Sam nodded his head. ‘I want to be getting to them, to get them out of the city. I worry with what you told me of Bran,” he said. “As you should, and we need to them out without anyone suspecting what we’re up to.” Jon said.

“I believe I can help with that,” Davos said. “I’m a smuggler, it’s what I do, I can get him into the city and out without anyone knowing, but moving about the Red Keep is a different matter.”

            It was Arya’s turn to speak up. “I can get them out of the Keep. I’ll go and visit my ‘brother’. While I’m in the Keep I will tell Gilly to prepare. Everyone will see me leave, but when the keep sleeps, I will slip back in and use the tunnels to get them out,” she finished.

     Gendry glowered at her. “You cannot risk it,” he said around a clenched jaw. “ Not _now_ Arya,” he pleaded. Arya glowered at him. “You just shut our mouth Lord Baratheon,” she said as she stormed from the room.

Everyone looked confused, not understanding what was going on as Gendry got up to follow her. Everyone but Jon. He knew that look. The look of a man worried about his child. That presented another set of problems Jon wasn’t ready to think about.

            “I’m with you,” Tormund said as he made his way to the door. All that remained were Davos, Sam, Dany and Grey Worm. “We may have to come up with another extraction plan,” Jon said. Davos looked confused. “Sounded like a damn good plan to me, what’s with you?” He asked. “The only outcome of weeks at sea with nothing to do,” he answered thinking of Arya. “We’ll talk more on the morrow,” he said as he took Dany’s hand and walked from the room.

            They reached their Cabin,-which is what they started calling Dany’s cabin- to find the nurse tending to Rhaella and tomas cooing at Lyanna, who still lay in her cradle. She bowed to them as they entered the room. “This one just had her swaddlings changed and will be needing something to eat,” she smiled as she handed the baby over to Dany. “Little Lyanna had been fed and changed already and should be finding her dreams soon,” she said. She gathered Tomas up and made to leave.

            “Wait,” Dany called out. “We will sail for Lys soon, and although we haven’t had much use for your services, I would like for you to sail with us. You and Tomas wouldn’t have to worry about food or _anything_ again. Will you join us?” Dany watched as the woman regarded her for a moment, then a huge smile spread across her face. “I would be honored to serve you, besides, there’s nothing in the world for me, save Tomas, and he’s right here.” She said. “You mistake me, I don’t wish you to come to serve me, I wish you to come as a friend,” she finished quietly.

‘Yes, I will come to Lys as your friend,” she answered. Dany nodded in response and she left to put her son to bed.

            Jon watched the exchange and he realized that this was why people loved her. These small flashes of vulnerability, and her willingness to show people that she cared about them, not just how they could benefit her were endearing. As he looked at her, he was reminded of one of the many reasons why he fell in love with her.

She was now nursing Rhaella, stroking her head, and humming some nameless tune, when Jon broke her reverie. “Arya’s with child,” he said bluntly as he kicked his boots off. Dany said nothing at his revelation, she had suspected as much herself. Arya made a habit of coming to her cabin in the mornings to spend time with her nieces. Over the past few weeks, her visits got later in the day, and she wasn’t eating much. “I had my suspicions, but she never said anything, so I didn’t press the issue,” was all she said.

“But this complicates things,” he said. She sighed as she got up to lay the baby in her cradle. “Anything can be seen as a complication, but I like to think of it as a blessing. As you should as well.” They began to undress and when they had finished, Jon blew out the candle. “It’s still early,” she said. “I know but I’m weary,” was his reply. He sounded as if once again, the fate of the world rested on his shoulders.

They were intimate in a different way that night. They held one another in a chaste embrace, with Jon nuzzling her neck and talking softly until sleep came for them both.

                                                       *****

Eight days passed since Drogon returned, and the days were slow and uneventful. Jon and Dany settled into a comfortable routine, making love in the evenings and the early morning hours while everyone still slept. They were confiding in each other and trusting each other again. Dany no longer flinched at his touch if he caught her off guard, for the first time in a long time they were both peaceful and happy.

On the ninth day, Drogon’s shrieks carried across the water to the ship, and then all of a sudden the beach was alight with Dragonfire. Jon called for the skiff and he and Dany rowed to the island as quickly as they could.

Jon and Dany approached Drogon and Dany whispered softly to the Dragon. At her words, Drogon lifted a wing to reveal four dragon hatchlings.

When she saw them Dany’s eyes burned with tears. This was her legacy, their legacy. They were beautiful. “They’re amazing, Dany,” Jon said. “I know,” she said, voice thick with emotion. The girls were nearly three months and she still became weepy at the slightest thing. It was maddening.

“We have to get them to the boat, they can’t ride on Dogon yet,” Jon said. She nodded in understanding. She approached Drogon and communicated to the dragon while Jon watched with amusement as the just hatched dragons nipped at each other playfully. Drogon huffed, and the hatchlings looked to Dany and Jon, and shifted over to them a bit. Drogon nudged the purple dragon that was closest to him over towards Jon and Dany. Taking the hint, all of them tumbled over clumsily to them.

The purple and green hatchlings scrambled up Dany’s skirts wile the other two found perches on Jon’s shoulders. ‘ _Stay low and near to your children,’_ Dany commanded wordlessly to Drogon as they boarded the skiff, hatchlings in tow.

As jon rowed them back, she couldn’t shake her excitement at the thought of her daughters having a dragon to ride, and maybe Jon if he chose to. Her hand drifted to her belly, _There’s even one for you,_ she said to the child that had recently taken hold in her womb.

           

           

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everyone's been doing the grown up on the ship, lol. It's a baby boom. The next two chapters or so will cover the arrival to Lys and set up a minor time jump, which preps us for the MAJOR time jump in the upcoming chapters. As always, leave a comment and let me know if you loved it or if you hated it


	19. Soon As I Get Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Targs and co make it Lys  
> they get settled in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Arya was miserable. She was sick all day _every_ day, and tired. There were days when she couldn’t manage to rise before midday, and nights where she couldn’t stay awake past sunset. She never kept track of her moonblood, it came when it came. She hadn’t bled in two moonturns and she recognized the early symptoms from when her mother carried Rickon.

She had intended to get a draught from Sam to get rid of the babe, she hadn’t told Gendry, and she was still early enough that it would seem like a monthly course and no more, but for some reason, every time she started towards Sam’s cabin, her feet led her to the cabin Jon and Dany shared instead,

She watched Dany dote on her babes and couldn’t help but think of her own babe, dark of hair and blue of eye. She couldn’t go through with it.

The night Gendry confronted her about her pregnancy would never leave her. She had just taken a bath, and like always he had come to her when the sun set. He stopped knocking weeks ago and as she stepped from the tub, the door opened, and he slipped in. He took in the sight of her athletic build and her scars. His eyes rested on her breasts. Her nipples had darkened a bit, and her breasts had gotten fuller. It was a subtle change, and Arya didn’t even notice, but Gendry did.

He grabbed a linen towel and draped her with it. “The water is still warm, if you want to get in, I would have you clean for what I intend to do to you,” she said mischievously. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been saying that every night for a fortnight now, and before I can get out of the tub, I’m greeted by your snores,” he said.

She shrugged. “Fine,” she said as she sipped on a thin shift. “Well at least change your clothes, I’ll not have you climb into bed with me, with those dusty clothes.” He was already removing his clothes when she looked up and she smiled. _At least he listens somewhat,_ she thought.

They climbed into bed and Gendry molded his body to Arya, pulling her into his chest with her back to him. He rested a hand on her belly. “When were you going to tell me?” he asked her. He heard her inhale sharply. “Honestly I didn’t know if I would tell you,” she said. “I don’t know how to be soft, how to be a mother, I’m a killer,” she said. ‘I don’t know what this means, I don’t know if I can do this.” Gendry squeezed her tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered. Arya felt wetness on her shoulder, and she realized that it was his tears.

“Don’t do that, my doubts are about me, not you.” She said turning to him. “You didn’t trust me, Arya. I know you’re scared, but that’s what I’m here for. But you didn’t tell me because you were going to get rid of the babe, is that it?” She couldn’t face him and say the words out loud, so she just shook her head. “I know you don’t want to be some lord’s wife, and you aren’t a lady. I’m not forcing you into having this babe. I wouldn’t do that. But it hurts that you couldn’t tell me any of this. I’m supposed to be the one you turn to.”  
            She could tell he was hurt and disappointed. She never thought of telling him because she thought he would be hurt by her not wanting to have any children. She wasn’t expecting this, his support in _whatever_ she chose. For the first time in a very long time, Arya cried.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said. He scoffed. “Do you have to be so bloody perfect? It’s not you Gendry None of this is you. I would be a terrible mother. I don’t know a thing about mothering or how to be _that way._ But I can’t bring myself to even ask for the herbs to end it.” She said through her tears.

Gendry wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “It will be alright Arya, we’re together, and it will be alright.”

That is how she found herself nearly six moons gone with child climbing a steep hill to look  at a palace they bought in Lys.

They arrived here two moons ago, and had been staying in an inn. Everyday they set out to look at houses and palaces that weren’t occupied. Those that weren’t occupied were In a sad state of disrepair, and those that were fit for living, were being lived in.

Today they were going back to the first palace they looked at upon arriving in Lys. Tormund had talked Jon into buying it and hiring workers to restore it. It had been 4 weeks since the work began and they were going to check the workers progress.

“Are you excited to see what’s been done?” Arya asked Dany, who stroked a small baby bump of her own. She smiled. “Honestly, I’m excited to have a place of my own no matter what it looks like. The transient life has worn on me, sister.” She said. She looked at the twins who were sleeping soundly and chuckled at the sight of Rhaella sucking Lyannas finger as they slept.

“I’m tired of that Inn, although it’s the most expensive inn in the city,” she finished. ‘I know, and hopefully everything is finished so we can get settled in,” Arya said.

                                                     *****

Their small caravan came to a halt and Dany peeked her head from the curtained litter, the gates of the palace were sprawling, which opened into a huge courtyard. Jon was at her side helping her, then Arya from the litter. He walked her through the courtyard and as they crossed Dany noticed the main doors that opened into the palace were painted red. It was hard for her to hide her emotions or find words, so she just squeezed his hand.

He led her through the palace, there were winding staircases and high ceilings. There were so many windows that sunlight streamed in from everywhere at once. As they surveyed their home she noticed women sweeping and scrubbing various surfaces. “Where did you find all these people?” she asked. “These women are the wives of the builders and laborers. They needed work, so I hired them,” he said matter of factly. She smiled. “It seems you’ve thought of everything,” she said.

“Not everything,” he countered. “It’s up to you to make this place homey for us. I have shit taste and don’t know the first thing of tapestries, and rugs and furnishings.” She laughed heartily at this. “I’m afraid my taste is no better than yours. I was too busy surviving or ruling to learn how to be a proper wife. I’m afraid I’ve never learned to keep house,” she said.

“Well it’s alright, we can hire someone to keep house for us,” he said. He led her by the elbow through the massive kitchen into the garden. There were workers here as well, busy planting, or pulling weeds, or tending to the fountains or the man made lakes. In the middle of the garden lay a path that Jon pulled her towards. “I have one more thing to show you,” he said. “Close your eyes,” he said.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she chuckled. Finally, they stopped walking and he bid her open her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, they stood in front of a lemon tree. She was at a loss for words. She turned to face him, “You remembered ,” she breathed out as she threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. No one has ever given me anything, Jon. But you have given me _everything._ Thank you.” Her words dissolved into happy sobs. Jon stroked her back softly and let her cry on his shoulder. “I told you, I would spend my life making you happy, this is only the beginning, my love.” He said.

                                             ******

The weeks and months passed by in a flurry of activity , getting settled into the sprawling palace. Their nurse Shanara, proved an invaluable asset. She simply asked Dany what colors she favored and went from there. After a time, the palace was transformed from an empty shell to a cozy home.

 Jon and Dany’s chambers were massive, In the middle of the room sat their bed, huge with silk sheets and pillows and cushions, It was canopied and the sheerest of linens draped it, providing protection from insects and some modicum of privacy. The bed faced a balcony with a sprawling  view of the city. The nursery was separated from their room by a door, and behind it slept their daughters.

Dany sat in a huge copper tub, enjoying the view when Jon came in. “I’m glad you came when you did, the water is beginning to get cold and I need help to get out of here,” she said. He laughed as he helped her from the tub. She stood there drying and looked to him when it was time to dry her legs, a task she couldn’t manage alone anymore. He bent, dried her legs and feet, then trailed kisses back up her legs.

His lips settled on her belly and he felt his child rolling and twisting just beneath her skin. “Hello little one,” he said directly into her belly. He was amazed at the way her body changed. Her belly was high and round, and everything seemed to be plumper, especially her arse. His loins ached for her. It was something about seeing her like this, that threatened all his restraint.

He kissed her and she wound her hands in his hair. He walked her back towards the bed and gently lay her back. He undressed, and wasted no time finding her with his mouth. She was dripping. He loved her taste when she was with child. Still sweet, but sweeter and heavier. He licked and sucked at her until her throaty moans rent the air. He slipped a finger inside of her and worked her nub with his thumb.

            All her nerves were on fire. His fingers were driving her crazy, and she felt her orgasm building in the pit of her stomach. Being with child, she was so sensitive that it didn’t take much to get her there. She bucked and cried out, surrendering herself to the sensations.

Jon turned her on her side and entered her, long and slow. Since she had gotten bigger, Jon had been taking her gently. It drove Dany mad. Sometimes she just wanted him to _fuck_ her hard and deep. She backed into him, frantically trying to take more of him in, but he placed his hands on her hips and stopped her.

“Easy, love. The babe,” his low voice rumbled against her neck. She shook her head fiercely, and rather clumsily she pushed him on his back and mounted him hard. They cried out at the same time. Jon went to grab her hips to slow her down, but Dany caught his hands. She worked her hips up and down, back and forth, in a frenzied pace. His cock rocked against the entrance to her womb and she cried out with every twist of her hips.

Jon was looking in her eyes as she rode him, and soon he found her rhythm, rocking with her. “Gods, Dany, you feel so good,” he growled. By now her moans escalated and threatened to finish him, and she was so wet and tight, that didn’t help him. Dany’s pace got erratic and he felt her contract around him, then her dam broke and he felt a gush of nectar coat his cock. He lasted three more strokes and spilled his seed inside her.

Some moments later Jon got up, cleaned himself off and then returned to the bed to clean Dany. “You’re wicked,” he said to her, when he finished. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked mischievously. ‘You know exactly what I mean,” he responded. “I don’t like to take you so rough when you’re with child Dany.” she sucked her teeth. “Hmphh. Sometimes I wish you would,” she said, almost crossly.

“I’ll not break Jon, you’re extremely well endowed,” she smirked as she said that, “but there’s nothing you could do to harm the baby. She’s well protected in here,” she said. They lay together, her on her left side, him behind her, hand on her belly.

“He,” said Jon. She laughed. “What makes you so sure?” she asked. “I dreamed of him,” he said wistfully. “I know you carry my son.” He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. As he did so Dany felt a sharp jab to her ribs, right where Jon’s hand lay. “See, I told you, he’s agreeing and saying I’m right,” Jon chuckled. 

“Good night Jon.” She said. He stroked her belly in response.

                                                 *****

In another part of the palace Arya and Gendry were up as well. “I can’t believe I have this much piss in me,” Arya said, thoroughly annoyed at having to get out of bed, again. Gendry chuckled softly and helped her rise. She was ready to give birth any day now and her nerves were shot. Gendry had taken many a tongue lashing as a result.

He helped her back into bed when she finished, then settled in beside her. “Sam said it should be any day now,” he said. “I hope so, there’s not much room for him to grow any bigger,” she said. “How do you know you carry a boy?” He asked. She laughed, “The Gods wouldn’t punish me with a daughter who wants to sew and be a lady, it has to be a boy.” She said, trying to will it true.

“Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me if it’s a boy or a girl. Whatever we have, boy or girl, will be loved and protected.” He vowed.

Arya’s womb tightened and she took a deep breath. “Are you ok?”  “Yes. They’re just warm up exercises for the birth,” she answered. _Any day now little one,_ she thought as she drifted to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the Targs settled in and living a somewhat normal life. It was important to me for Jon and Gendry to find some way to make a living, it's a good amount of gold Arya recovered, but not enough to justify the men not contributing to their fortune, so We’ll see that play out next chapter. More Davos and Tormund coming up next chapter, and the chapter following that is a MAJOR time jump. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought f this chapter, and thanks for reading!


	20. I've Got Three Eyes But No heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally find out what's going on in Westeros, as we get a bit of Tyrion's POV. Bran is TRIPPING y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my wonderful readers, thank you for waiting for this update. It has been two weeks since the last chapter and I apologize for the wait. When I first started this story I was on a two week vacation. Since I went back to work I had a hard time finding time to write. I work twelve hour shifts four days a week and i work every other weekend, plus I have four kids. Add to that a senior graduation for my eldest child, and a planning a third birthday party for my youngest, I got overwhelmed. When i did have the time to write, I had SEVERE writers block. This chapter is by far my least favorite, and rushed, i may go back and edit at a later date and add stuff or change somethings around, but I needed this to set up he events of the next chapters. As always, I truly hope you enjoy and find that this was worth the wait!

Tyrion walked the ruined halls of the Red Keep, his goal the Small Council chamber. He had been delaying this meeting, hesitant- no afraid- of the outcome. Nearly two years had passed since Jon Snow and Tormund Giantsbane rode into King’s Landing, and rode off on Drogon, taking members of the Small Council with them. Nearly two years without a word of what the visit was for, nearly two years without word from Ser Davos, Gendry and Sam. And nearly six months since Gilly fled the city with her children.

            He couldn’t blame her. The city had begun a slow descent into chaos since Jon left. King Bran spent more time in his chambers, warging, greenseeing, or whatever it was that he did, While Tyrion struggled to keep the city from open revolt. The city was on edge. The people were being tried and executed for crimes not yet committed and treasonous thoughts.

            The latest declaration from King Bran was the most troubling yet. _Madness,_ he thought. Jon Snow was declared a deserter of The Night’s Watch, accused of conspiring against the Crown, and Harboring a dead woman and her children. He and all who followed him, were stripped of any lands and titles and were now enemies of the Crown. Any good citizen of the 6 Kingdoms, along with The North, was charged with capturing or killing them, if they were able.

            It made no sense to him, especially since The King gave his brother permission to go wherever he went. Tyrion watched King Bran topple over the edge of madness, becoming increasingly paranoid of _The Dragon Bitch and her whelps._ Tyrion had his suspicions of the real reason why Jon showed up and left on the dragon. He didn’t want to believe his suspicions for fear of retribution. He betrayed her. He failed her. And he had done so because he was a coward. If he hadn’t had manipulated Jon into killing her, he would be dead instead of her. He betrayed her to save his own neck.

            In hindsight he thought it would have been better to die by dragonfire, than this miserable excuse of an existence, living in fear everyday that somehow his thoughts were known, and the guards were coming to arrest him again. _Better the monster you know,_ he mused.

            Sometimes, he lie awake at night, wondering what would have happened, had he not convinced his Queen to send for Jon after the visit from that Red Priestess. He was only kidding himself. No matter how many what if’s he ran through in his mind, all roads led to destruction and death. Still, he was a man with regrets. Hindsight often lends a man clarity. He was never clearer in his conviction that The King orchestrated the events that led to the Burning of King’s Landing. After seeing King Bran influence the decisions men made, and the way he controls animals, he wouldn’t be surprised if _he_ was the one who actually burned the city.

            He stopped watching his feet and picked his head up. He knew he was getting close; he could feel the icy presence of the King nudging his mind. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and smiled weakly at Ser Brienne and Ser Podrick. Their fear was palpable. It came off them in waves. Everyone in the keep had the same empty, fearful look in their eyes, himself included.

 His eyes scanned the long table and the empty chairs that sat around it. Even Ser Bronn had abandoned the city, leaving him the sole member of the Small Council and the only one to deal with The King. He stopped before the young man that was once Brandon Stark and bowed, “Your Grace.” He said as he kept eyes on him, climbing into a chair.

            “What of the ravens, my Lord Hand?” a cold voice asked him. Tyrion cleared his throat and began the tentative dance around The King he had become familiar with. “Your Grace, The Stormlords sent a raven saying they do not recognize the delegitimization of Gendry Baratheon, because it was not you who legitimized him. They remain loyal to their lord. All of the southern houses that were loyal to House Targaryen have not replied. As you know, Lord Varys sent out several ravens with Jon Snow’s true parentage, and with the unrest in the Kingdoms they will not go against a true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen.

 The lords of the North will not go against the man with Stark blood in his veins, nor will The Queen in the North condemn her sister to death. Dorne and the Iron Islands remain loyal to house Targaryen if their silence is any indication, and The Reach is unreachable,” the irony of his last statement wasn’t lost on him, so held his breath. Hollow eyes met his, and Tyrion swore he saw the abyss of the seven hells in his eyes. They were empty, and he had the feeling that pure evil just gazed into the depths of his soul. It shook him to his core.

“I want all those who stand against me dead, Lord Tyrion. I care not how you achieve this. Just see it done.” The King finished speaking and disappeared into himself, eyes going white. Tyron knew that Bran wasn’t  looking for him in his visions, nor would he be looking for Brienne or Podrick. This was his only chance to pull off his last plot for the good of the Realm. He knew it meant  his life, but a part of Tyrion had died when he uncovered the bodies of his siblings in the ruins of the Red Keep.

He handed Podrick a folded slip of parchment as he excited the council chamber, and prayed to whatever Gods were listening that The King didn’t get wind of his plans.

 

                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daenerys sat in the gardens of the palace with her back to a lemon tree, watching her children and niece play. The twins toddled after the growing dragons, now roughly about the size of direwolves, while her son Aemon and her niece Catelyn lay on a blanket babbling and cooing to one another. This was peace and she was happy.

She smiled as watched the girls. She knew they would be dragon riders when they hatched, but she wasn’t expecting their bond to be so visceral. Missandax, the purple dragon had become fiercely protective of the girls. But it was clear her rider was Rhaella, while Joragon, the spitting image of Drogon, took to Lyanna. They were still too young to ride, both dragons and twins, but that didn’t prevent them from having their fun together. The wins ran ad the dragons nipped their heels playfully, and then it was the girls turn to chase them. Sunfyre, the dragon that had Rhaegals coloring occasionally stopped playing to come and sniff Aemon. The little boy became excited each time his dragon came to nuzzle him, cooing loudly ad kicking his little chubby legs straight out. That left Silverwing for Jon. The dragon was snow white when it hatched, eyes blood red. The resemblance to Ghost was uncanny, and dragon and man took to each other at once. She hummed quietly to herself, perfectly content to wait for Jon right there until angry footsteps drew her attention.

“The sun is setting and those idiots are _still_ in the forge,” Arya said as she plopped down next to Daenerys, sending a whiff of dust and sweat to her nostrils. “Is it too much to ask of you, Goodsister, that you wash after your sparring sessions?” Dany asked as she crinkled her nose at Arya’s smell. Arya huffed and rolled her eyes as she picked up the now fussy Catelyn and put her to her breast. “No one ever told me that just an hour away from my daughter would have my tits leaking and tingling, the joys of motherhood,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“It can’t be that bad Arya,” She said nothing as she continued to nurse her babe. Several minutes passed by and it was also time for Dany to nurse her son. Arya turned to Dany and observed her as she stroked the child’s head and hummed a nameless tune. She envied the look of love on her sisters’ face and wondered if something was broken within her, that she didn’t feel the same. All Catelyn presented to her were inconveniences. She couldn’t sleep when she wanted to, she was always tired and cross. And whenever she went to train, the only thing that kept her sane, she was interrupted by the biological ties to feed her daughter.

She was sure she loved her, but felt guilty for not actually wanting to mother her. Dany looked at Arya and saw her wipe at her eyes. “What troubles you?” she asked softly. Arya took a shaky breath and began.

“While I was pregnant, my heart seemed like it would burst with love for Gendry and the babe. But now that she’s here, I don’t feel like me anymore. She demands everything from me, and I guess I’m having a hard time. But then I see you with the twins and Aemon, and I feel like something is wrong with me that I can’t love her like you love them. I’m afraid I will break her or that I’m not loving her enough. I resent Gendry, everything is wrong it seems, and it starts with me.” She continued, sobbing.

“Ever since they discovered how to make valyrian steel, Gendry has been gone from sunup to sun down. When he comes home, he collapses and barely says two words to me. And then I have this baby demanding _everything_ I have, and I feel like Gendry isn’t  putting back what she’s taking. Does that make sense?” Arya pleaded.

Dany knew something was off with Arya but couldn’t quite place it, attributing the change in behavior to the newness of motherhood and lack of sleep. But this was something altogether different, something she had no experience in. She didn’t know what to say, so she chose her next words carefully.

“No woman leaves the birthing bed a perfect loving mother. Some women don’t bond with their babes right away. It takes time to get to know them. For me, it was different because I thought I would never have children, and then I died carrying the twins, so they were a blessing to me. But you said you would never wed or be a mother, so you weren’t expecting this or it was an unwelcomed surprise. Being a mother goes against everything you are, to you.” She stopped to gauge her reaction before she continued. “But let me ask you this, has little Catelyn made you less of a fighter, less deadly, not as strong? You don’t have to be weak to be tender and love your child Arya. In fact, you must be strong to do so. But you’re a better mother than you give yourself credit, Arya,” she said as Arya arched her brow, as if asking her what her meaning is.

“You’re terrified that you’re messing up, somehow ruining her by not loving her enough. I think you love her so much that you’re scared to let yourself go and surrender to it. I say just trust your instincts and do what feels right to you, not what you think I would do.”

Dany stood up with Aemon still in her arms “Lyanna, Rhaella, come with mama, It’s time for supper.” She held her hand out to Arya and she helped her up while she held baby Cat. They walked behind the children, side by side into the palace. One grateful for the support, and the other grateful for the trust it took to confess such a thing.

As they were making their way to Dany’s chambers to lay the babies down, they heard the loud voices of the men returning for the night. Gendry and Tormund always came home filthy, while Davos and Jon looked as they did when they left in the mornings. Ser Davos ran the business end of the Valyrian Steel. Coordinating shipments and the like, while Jon ran the shop of the Smithy. It was a lucrative business, their coffers overflowed, and Jon’s desk was a mess of orders and parchments.

It made Jon feel like a man. He wasn’t living off the gold that was payment for Daenerys’ captivity to the slave masters. He was able to buy his wife and children whatever they desired, and even more importantly he was able to buy an army.

            He brooded on the troubling reports he received from Westeros. The most troubling was the raven that arrived from Horn Hill a fortnight ago. His mood darkened as he remembered the day Sam rushed into his solar flushed with more than the exertion from running.

            _“Jon, a raven has come from my home,” Sam said as he burst into his solar. Jon sighed. “Why do I have the feeling this isn’t good news beyond Gilly and the baby doing well, Sam?” He asked as he slumped in his chair a bit._

_“Because it’s not good news Jon. Bran has all but declared war on you, and all those who would ally with you. I have been stripped of my land and titles, as Ser Davos and Gendry. Gendry is now a bastard again. You are a deserter of the Night’s Watch, and conspiring against the crown. You ae harboring the murderess Daenerys Targaryen and her children. Arya is also branded a traitor and sentenced to death. As are we all,” He paused._

_“ What’s more troubling is my mother and sister must flee Horn Hill, when Gilly and the children have just arrived. Ser Bronn has quit the capital, but no one knows where his loyalties lie, although my mother did mention that he’s having all ravens shot down on the border of the reach. One could assume one of two things. He’s afraid of Bran or he wants to cut off communications with everyone.”_

_Sam unfolded the parchment and placed it in Jons’ waiting hand. He skimmed the message and his blood boiled by the time he read the final line. ‘I don’t know if it is safe to come to you, but we are scared, Samwell.’_

_As he held out the parchment to the fire his mind turned. He thought of all the houses who swore to Daenerys and more importantly House Targaryen. He would have need of them._

An incessant tugging at his leg brought him back to reality. “Hello princess,” he said as he bent down to pick up Rhaella. She squealed in delight as he launched her up in his arms. “Where is your sister, little one?” he asked. “Mama,” was her one-word reply. He parted ways with the men and made way to see his wife and other children.

When he got to his chambers he knew something was amiss immediately. Sam and Arya were there and they all looked like they had just saw death. He looked to Dany and saw the tears shining in her eyes, and to Arya who was seething, her jaw clasped in anger. “Sam, what is going on?’ he asked as he put Rhaella in Dany’s lap.

Sam said nothing, he just handed him a scroll with a broken direwolf seal.

_To the Bastard Jon Snow, traitor and pretender to the throne,_

_To the murderer Daenerys Targaryen,_

_Brother, you have broken your vows. You swore to take no wife and father no children. Yet you play house with the dragon queen and whelped three bastards on her. You conspire against the crown by harboring the murderer and her bastards. I will give you one chance to right your wrongs and restore your honor. Surrender your woman, your bastards and your beasts to the crown. I will take your tongue and sword arm as punishment. You will never again speak or take up arms against me and I will allow you beyond the wall with the Freefolk once more. Refuse and it’s your death._

_To my traitorous sister, You have a bastard as well. Understand that I permit no Targaryens to live besides Jon, citing our familial bonds. Your bastard is the spawn of Roberts’ bastard, whose own grandmother was a Targaryen. Come home, Gendry will be put to death for his treason, and your child may be allowed to live. Provided you are the one that swings the sword on the dragon bitch and her bastards._

_Grandmaester, You managed to get your wildling and her whelps out of the city, if they are headed for your ancestral home, they will not find shelter. You are an enemy of the crown, your lands and titles seized and your family homeless and destitute. Come back to the city, and they will be returned to you, defy me and your women will be well used by the time you next see them._

_To the smuggler, you’re nothing more than a commoner from the slums of this city, given position for being a criminal. You will be killed on sight._

_Tormund Giantsbane, you are not of the seven Kingdoms, you will be allowed to go back to the true north IF you surrender. Otherwise, you will be killed on sight._

_Give up your arms and you may find that I have a bit of mercy, defy me in this, and all those who are still loyal to you will die._

Jon let the parchment fall to the floor. He saw red and he couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears. He saw Dany reach out to him, he saw her lips moving but couldn’t make out her words. All eyes were on him as he struggled to gain his composure. He slowly relaxed he his hands and uncurled his fingers. Voices were becoming clear.

“Send for Davos, Tormund and Gendry,” he said through clenched teeth. Arya breezed from the room clutching little Cat to her breast. As she passed he noticed the lethal look in her eyes that had been absent the seven months since the birth of her child. _Yes sister, we may need you yet._  

As he made to torch the letter Sam stopped him. “Jon, it looks to be a secret message on the back of this,” as he plucked the parchment from Jon’s hands. He went to the table and sprinkled water on the back of the scroll and gasped.

“It’s as I thought. There’s another message, from the Hand of The King.” He dipped his hand in the water and smeared it on the parchment. When the entire message was revealed he handed it back to Jon.

_To Aegon Targaryen sixth of His name,_

_I am ashamed to find myself writing this after all that has transpired. The King, I’m afraid is pushing Westeros to ruin. I named him Bran the Broken, but a more fitting name would have been Bran the Callous or Bran the Cruel. He executes the people for crimes they have not committed, his justification for such actions are that the people were thinking of conspiring against him, although I’m sure no such thoughts or conspiracies exist. He seeks to rule on fear alone. As you have read, you are all considered traitors by the Crown. Ravens were sent to every lord in Westeros, declaring as much, but the King overestimated his hand. None of the lords support him in this. He starves the people, he murders them, and he is cruel. Queen Daenerys occupies his mind and he tells me she is alive. You are in danger. The southern houses are still loyal to you, the Iron Islands are still loyal to you, The Dornish houses are still loyal to you. The Northern Houses are still loyal to you. All you need to do is come home. I should also tell you that Ser Brienne of Tarth and Ser Podrick Payne sail for Essos as we speak. It was no easy task smuggling them out of the city. Ser Davos would be proud of me. They come to help, they also come with something for Samwell. I know much has been done on my end to earn your hatred, but right now, the fate of the realm is at stake. The lives of your children are at stake. Please heed these words. You are needed. I may be dead by the time this reaches you, but if it gets you back here, there is no better way for me to die than in service of the Realm._

_Lord Tyrion Lannister Of Casterly Rock, Hand of the King._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a way to end a chapter right? But I can't give you all the crumbs at once, you wouldn't come back for more! I hope you enjoyed. please drop a comment


	21. Back Against The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dragonwalking  
> reunions  
> more dragonwalking  
> a few Your Graces' for good measure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I initially wanted to have two chapters posted by Sunday night but life happens. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed toying with the history of Westeros and a few new ideas I've been toying with.

_‘Sister’_

            _The voice was far away but close at the same time. The incessant voice prodded her subconscious mind while she was asleep. ‘Sister,’ the voice called again. This time louder and more urgent. She gave in to the voice and followed its call._

_She was now looking down at her sleeping body, wondering how this was possible, when the voice sounded as if it was right behind, around and inside her. She turned to face her eldest brother Rhaegar._

            _‘This isn’t a dragondream,’ she said as she saw him. ‘No, Daenerys, I’m afraid it’s not.’ She looked back to her sleeping form and then held her hand in front of her face. She made a fist, and she felt her nails dig into her palms. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said._

_‘The veil is thinning. I don’t know how, or why, but I know who.” He said. He looked to her, then to the door that led to the nursery. ‘Rhaella and Lyanna are no ordinary children. Even Aemon is gifted.  All that was done was done to prevent those children from being born.’ He looked to Jon and continued._

_‘The force that seeks to destroy your family isn’t impartial as we thought. The powers were thought to be neither good nor bad, but somewhere throughout time, the entity developed motives of its own. Maybe it was always the children of dragons and wolves that would be its undoing. I don’t know, but what I am sure of, is that it fears your children. Especially the girls. Their souls died along with you, sister. And now they have power. Power that you couldn’t imagine. You must make sure they’re ready when the time comes,’ he said as his voice began to fade on the night breeze._

_‘But they’re just babes. How can they ever be ready for what’s coming for them?’ She cried to his disappearing form. ‘They have no choice.’_

She sat straight up in bed. Her night shift clung to her despite the nighttime breeze. Jon turned and draped his arm across her lap. Dany nudged him. “Jon, wake up,” she hissed. He opened one eye and focused it on her, The only light in the room was moonlight but the anguish was plain on her face. “What is it?” he said as his arm instinctively reached for Longclaw which was propped on the wall on his side of the bed.

            “Nothing that requires a sword at this moment. Rhaegar came to me.” She looked at him to see his reaction. “He said that everything that happened was in order to keep us apart to prevent the children from being born.” Where there was no reaction at the news of his father coming to Dany, now his face darkened, and his eyes went black. She could see his jaw flexing and felt the tension in his body. He became undone when his children’s safety was threatened. “What do you mean? That Bran knew we would conceive a child and he wanted to prevent it? But why?” He asked.

            Dany’s body shook with nerves, and her throat became tight with emotion. “The Three Eyed Raven was always thought to be neutral. But it seems that that isn’t the case. The children equal the destruction of the the power of The Three Eyed Raven, of that he was sure. But I think this is bigger than Bran. No matter who this power resided in, the motivations would have been the same.” She said as the tears finally began to fall. “ And that’s not all. When I was dead the girls were dead as well. Rhaegar said that because of that, the girls have powers.” She said as she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them to her body.

            Jon placed an arm around her, as if he could shield her from whatever she was feeling. “You mean like warging or greensight?” He asked. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out.”

            She got out of bed and beckoned him to follow her. “Come husband, I need another set of arms,” and she opened the door that attached their room to the nursery and picked up a sleeping Aemon and snuggled him close to her breast. “Grab the girls, I would have them close for the rest of the night.” She said.

            Jon scooped up Lyanna careful not to wake her, and picked up Rhaella. She stirred and began to whine softly.

            At the exact moment Rhaella stirred, a few storm clouds covered the sky. It began to drizzle lightly and didn’t stop until she was back asleep in her parents’ bed.

 

            “Jon, men approaching on horseback,” Tormund called. Jon sat in the gardens with Daenerys and the children when Tormund called to him. He jumped up and made his way to the courtyard of the palace and watched and as two tiny moving specks turned into two riders steering a cart came into view. He couldn’t see their faces clearly but knew the shock of blonde hair belonged to Ser Brienne. The dark-haired man could only be Podrick.

            Some time passed and they finally came upon the gate. Jon, Tormund and Gendry walked closer to the gate, hand on weapons, as Brienne dismounted and approached.

            “Do you come as friend or foe, Beauty? Would be ashamed for us to end things on a bad note, wouldn’t it,” Tormund declared. Brienne rolled her eyes. “I’ve come on urgent business, concerning the King and Queen,” she directed her statement at Jon. His eyes met hers and she found herself staring two pools of black. “There is no monarchy here, Ser Brienne. I fear you have come all this way for naught.” He turned his back on her. “You can tell _Lord Tyrion_ we care nothing for the affairs of a broken kingdom or their broken King, that _they chose._ I wish to live in peace.” He said as he walked back towards the palace.

            There was a commotion at the cart and then Gilly stepped down. “SAM? Where’s Sam? And you, after weeks travelling and on the run you won’t permit us entry? Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?” Her voice ended on a shrill note as Lady Tarly stepped from the cart holding a fussing toddler. She walked over to Gilly and handed her the child.

            Another young woman stepped from the cart as she helped Little Sam down. Lady Tarly approached the gate as Jon turned around and whispered to Gendry. Jon opened the gate and let Sam’s family in. When Brienne and Podrick stepped forward he motioned for them to remove their weapons. Brienne looked to Podrick to remove his sword and scabbard as she did the same. “We come in peace your Grace,” she said. Jon huffed at the title but didn’t correct her. “Lord Tyrion informed me of your birth, and that you were rightful heir to Westeros. As a member of the Kingsguard, I am here to pledge you my sword. I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new,” she said as she kneeled.

            Jon regarded her coldly. “And what of your oath to _my sister,”_  he spat. “I was released from her service when I became a member of the Kingsguard, but I cannot keep faith with someone who broke a sacred oath, Your Grace. My sword is yours, as is my life.” She finished.

            Everyone in the courtyard held their breath waiting for Jon to respond. Daenerys came to stand beside him and whispered something in his ear. He visibly relaxed. “And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise,” he said as he extended his hand to her.

            Podrick moved to stand in front of Jon “ If you mean to repeat that, it’s not necessary.” Jon said. “I accept you as well,” he said, “but, you two will be watched.” He said as he walked away. Just then Gendry and Sam entered the courtyard.

            Gilly rushed right into his arms, squishing the toddler between them. Gilly was audibly crying. “There there. None of that. It’s alright love,” he said as he stroked her back.

 Little Sam, who was quiet for most of the ordeal snatched his hand from Talla when he saw Sam and ran to him wrapping his arms around his legs. “Papa,’ he cried into the fabric of Sams’ clothing.  Talla and Lady Tarly stood off to the side watching the reunion. Talla wanted to go to Sam, but was stopped by their mother, allowing her son and his wife this long-awaited moment.

            Dany walked over to greet Lady Tarly and Talla. ‘Lady Tarly, Talla, she said acknowledging them both. “I deeply regret the events that led to the execution of Lord Tarly and your son,” she said. At the mention of her son and husband, Lady Tarly blanched, but quickly composed herself. “I’m not a Queen, Your Grace, nor am I versed in the ways of politics, but I know my husband knew what could happen if he betrayed his liege Lord. And now here we are,” she paused and looked around the courtyard, her gaze lingering on Jon.

 “My daughter and I seek sanctuary, there is no safety for us in Westeros. We were driven from our home, and were it not for Lord Tyrion securing passage for us  to The Stormlands, where Ser Brienne awaited us, we would surely be dead, by the King’s own orders.” Her eyes pleaded with Daenerys. “We just want to be safe, and I want to be near my last remaining son, and watch his children grow,” she finished.

She looked from Daenerys, to Jon, and then finally to Sam. Tears shone in her eyes as she did so. “You are welcome here mother,” he said as he fixed Jon with a hard stare.

            Daenerys embraced the elder woman. “You have a place here, Lady Tarly, you and your daughter. Sam is our family, as are you. Come inside. You must be weary of travel and in good need of a meal and a bath. I will show you to the spare rooms,” she said as she beckoned the women to follow her.

As she passed Jon she met his eyes. “Brienne and Podrick  are in need of accommodations as well.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but first I would like to apprise you and the King of events that led us here, if it please you.” She said with a bow of her head. Jon heaved a weary sigh and dragged a hand down his face.

_It seems I will never be rid of my bloody birthright,_ he thought wearily. “Come inside. We will break bread until Dany returns from showing the ladies to their rooms.” They followed him inside. None could mistake the sense of dread that settled over everyone in the courtyard.

Brienne and Pod were given bread and salt to symbolize guest right in their home. After the formalities were over Jon got right to it.

“Why are you here? Surely you know I want nothing to do with the politics of Westeros.” Podrick looked to Brienne nervously. “Your Grace, your brother the King has gone mad. Or perhaps he always has been. The people starve, and he grows increasingly suspicious of any and every one. He has put entire families to the sword for whispers of treason. ENTIRE FAMILIES. The women, the old, the sickly, and even babes. All those who defied him in his proclamation naming you enemy of the crown, have been put to the sword, or they’re currently besieged in their castles.”

“So, what would you have _us_ do? I was already killed, Jon already exiled. Now we hear that our children are perceived as threats, when all we wish to do is live in peace,’ Daenerys said.

It was Podrick who spoke next. “How can you hide from an enemy that knows where you are? How do you beat an enemy that sets all the pieces on the cyvasse board? I have no doubt that we were allowed to come here, but to what end? You and your children will _never_ be safe as long as he hunts you. The only thing you can do is take what is yours. By any means. Would you raise your children in fear, forever looking behind them? How long can you outrun assassins?” Pod pleaded.

“We have no need to run, if the assassins are killed,” Arya said coldly as she cleaned her nails with her dagger. “Leave my brother to me. I can get into the Keep and kill him,” she levelled a gaze at Daenerys, her eyes saying everything she had left out. That she would die before she saw any of the children harmed.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be as simple as that,” Sam interjected. “The power of the Three Eyed Raven can’t be killed. Even if you kill the body of the current three eyed raven, his essence would just go into another person. For all we know, Bran could be looking for his replacement as we speak. I remember Bran telling me the  Three Eyed Raven before him said his name was Bryndyn. I think it was actually Bryndyn Rivers or Lord Bloodraven as he was called.”

“But why is that relevant. He was a Targaryen bastard, which made him blood of the dragon.” Dany said.

“Well, though he was considered a Great Bastard because his mother was highborn, he was a Targaryen loyalist during the Blackfyre rebllions. He had a blood feud with Aegor Rivers, his half-brother, also known as  Bittersteel over their half-sister, Shiera. He was later sent to the wall for slaying Aenys Blackfyre under a flag of truce.

 Aenys was summoned to King’s landing to submit his claim peacefully and Bloodraven had him executed when he arrived. Aegon the fifth had Bloodraven sent to the wall. He was escorted to the wall by Ser Duncan The Tall, along with Aemon Targaryen. He became the 995th Lord Commander of the watch and he disappeared beyond the wall when he went ranging alone. It’s just a theory, but it could be possible that Bloodraven held animosity against the Targaryens for exiling him when he thought he was securing the throne for them,” he finished.

Davos cleared his throat. “Well this is shittiest thing I’ve heard today, and considering what I’ve heard, that’s pretty shitty. But again, I must be missing something. So, the three eyed raven is inside Bran, but it isn’t Bran. So that means that it wasn’t Bloodraven either but held onto his memories of a life before he became the raven and also held on to his bitterness?” He questioned. “Makes no damned sense,” he muttered.

“The FreeFolk always thought that the Three eyed Ravens came from the same power that created the Walkers, but the Ravens are older than the Walkers, probably as old as the children themselves.” Tormund mused for a minute. He stopped musing to make eyes at Brienne, who promptly turned away from him.

“So, all we know is that we have an ancient evil with no sure way to put it down. _Great,_ ” Jon said. “I’ve a feeling we’ll soon have more Red priestesses than we have rooms.”

“We’re all tired. Let us retire and speak of this on the morrow,” he said as he stood and took Dany’s hand.

“King Crow, you said these two will be needing a guard,” Said Tormund as  he looked to Brienne. “I’ll take the night watch.” He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head in her direction.

Seeing Brienne’s discomfort at the notion Jon spoke up. “ I spoke in haste. Ser Brienne is one of the most loyal Knights in all seven kingdoms. I trust her,” and he and Dany waited for the others to file out and then they made their way to their chambers.

The sun had yet to set,  but they were weary. Jon pulled off his boots and began the task of undressing. He no longer wore the boiled leather gambeson and jerkin of the north. He took to wearing thinner linen tunics and breeches, and he was never more thankful for the change in attire. He unbuckled his sword belt and leaned it against the wall on his side of the bed. Dany went to the nursery to check on the children, and seeing that they were sleeping peacefully, turned to Jon and let him hold her.

_Gods, I am tired, tired of running and fighting. Why wont the world just let us be?_ Before long she was crying, her chest and throat full of things she dared not give voice to. _What if he comes for us? What if he hurts one of her children? What if we can’t beat him?_ So many what ifs, and no solutions.

He undressed her without any words. He lay her down on the bed and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. He drew her to his chest and held her. He knew no words would comfort her. But he was a man of action. He need not say anything. Slowly as the sun sank beneath the horizon, they lulled each other to sleep with the beating of their hearts and the steady rise and fall of their chests.

 

_‘Aegon’ a deep voice called out to him. The voice was persistent in separating his mind from his body. Jon slowly became aware of the presence demanding his attention. He blinked and saw his limbs tangled around his wife in sleep. ‘Aegon,’ the voice called again._

_‘Are you going to keep calling me or tell me what you want, father?’ Jon spat. When he finally saw Rhaegar, he looked hurt. Jon cold swear there were unshed tears in his eyes. ‘I deserve to be despised. How many good men died because I couldn’t forsake my love for duty? Elia and my children. They all met their ends because of me.’ Jon rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t talk to me of duty. I know all about it.’ Father and son locked eyes and got the measure of each other before Rhaegar continued._

_‘When you were resurrected, you became Azor Ahai, when Daenerys was resurrected, She was reborn as Nissa Nissa. You fulfilled the prophecy; you have everything you need to rid the world of the great evil that threatens to consume it.’ Rhaegar looked to the nursery. The dragon has three heads. I always thought that prophecy meant my children, but now I know it means yours. Three children born to parents who have come back from death,’ he said as he looked from Jon to Dany. They are the key my son.’_

Jon’s eyes snapped open. _I will answer the call with Fire and Blood. But first things first. I need to take Winterfell and secure The North,_ he thought. He looked to the balcony and saw the beginnings of sunrise playing on the horizon. _And so it begins._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the twins have MAJOR powers. But they're just toddlers toddling around. They're going to need a mentor in the upcoming chapters. More Tormund and Brienne in coming chapters. I want to explore exactly what the three eyed raven is and where this power comes from. A trip to the citadel may be in the cards, or maybe not. Next chapter will be posted soon. I've gotten over that terrible bout of writer's block! Please leave a comment if you loved or hated it!


	22. Gods Bless The child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious lady   
> Tormund and the big woman  
> Prophecies are pesky things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back with another one. We're slowing down the timeline a bit as i need to get everyone thats vital to the plot to the palace, because eventually they are Westward bound. I really hope you enjoy this!

Grey Worm approached the palace gates with a small group of Unsullied, leaving the carriage they escorted just a few yards away. Jon opened the gates and Grey Worm strode through the courtyard, hands behind back and head held high. “Where is The Queen?” He asked abruptly.

“She’s in the gardens,” Jon replied. “What’s happened?” He asked. “Not your business until the Queen say so,” he said as he pushed past Jon and made for the gardens. Jon stayed in the courtyard, curious as to this new development.

They had been in Lys for over a year now, with the Unsullied staying in the city. Grey Worm had rooms in the palace but left frequently to check on his men. He had been gone for near a full moon turn and Daenerys had begun to worry. It seemed that he returned with something or someone, judging by the carriage the Unsullied guarded.

Soon enough, Grey Worm ad Daenerys were in the courtyard again, speaking in a rush of Valyrian.

_“Skoro syt would ao maghagon zirȳla kesīr Turgon Nudha?”_

“Why would you bring her here Grey Worm?”

_“Bisy iksis hen ñuha lenton.  Ziry ivestragon ziry emagon magic.  Magic naejot dohaeragon se riñar.”_

“This one is from my home. She say she have magic. Magic to help the children.”

Jon and Dany looked at each other then to the carriage. They had both been on edge since they shared the waking dreams they had of Rhaegar. Daenerys had watched the children closely for any signs of power but found nothing but her usually happy and mischievous children. Dany sensed that Jon was uncomfortable, not understanding their conversation so she switched to the common tongue.

“Are you sure you can trust her?” She asked. Grey Worm looked to Jon and spat on the ground. “I am sure my Queen. She will not hurt you- or the children,” he finished. Daenerys nodded to Jon and he tipped his head in question. She levelled a gaze at him and he understood that she trusted Grey Worms’ judgement. Jon relaxed his shoulders and Grey Worm called out to his men.

_“Dovaogēdy, maghagon se ābra!”_ His voice carried on the wind and Jon knew he addressed the Unsullied, guessing that he told them to bring the passenger, because they parted the curtains and a striking woman climbed out.

Dany gasped and Jon was in awe. The woman who approached was graceful and lithe. Her walk gave the illusion of a sensual dance. Her skin was ebony with undertones of red and gold. When the  sun shined on her, it lit the high points of her face and she shone with an otherworldly beauty. She was tall and slender, but shapely. She wore a dress made of the brightest green, blue and yellow silks, adorned with the feathers of some exotic bird. The long slit revealed toned legs and shapely thighs. Her waist was so small Dany thought it some illusion of the fabric. Her hair crowned her face like a lion’s mane, with tight springy curls, reminding Dany of Missandei and her chest became heavy with grief and loss.

She entered the palace gates and stopped right before Jon and Dany, meeting her eyes first, then regarding Jon. Dany was struck by how beautiful she was. Her eyes were the color of molten gold, but they were kind.

“I am Zanarra Xaan of the Summer Isles. I have come a long way. I was shown the way in a dream, a man with hair and eyes like yours told me you would have need of someone with my gifts, to help your children,” she said with a slight bow of her head.

At the mention of Rhaegar coming to this woman, Dany’s mind reeled. She quickly gained her composure, with Jon noticing that she wore the face of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, a face he hadn’t seen in long time. “Forgive me, Zanarra, but why do you think my children would have need of you?” she asked coolly.

_Ever The Queen,_ Jon mused. Zanarra regarded Dany for a moment before speaking. “My people are an old people. Some of us still keep to our old Gods. There was a star in the sky. The presence of the star meant that the Gods have returned to the world to destroy the great evil. Our prophecy is that three children will be born to parents who have known life and death,” she said.

“We don’t believe in prophecies My Lady,” Jon said.

“I am no lady, just a woman that was tasked from birth to guide the chosen ones until they come into their full power. I know prophecies can be fickle things, and interpreted according to the wills of the interpreters. Your children may not be Gods, but they were foretold, and they are special.

The Great Other was killed, and it upset the balance in the world. In order for the light to shine, there must be darkness. For us to appreciate the sunshine, we must have night. The one you fight draws all his power from the light, twisting and corrupting it. Your children will restore the balance to the world,” she finished.

Jon bristled at the mention of the Night King, The Three Eyed Raven, and his children in the same sentence. He hated that the Gods or some unseen forces were pulling them along by puppet strings and that his innocent children are the latest to be pulled and manipulated. It never stopped. One war after another. And he was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of all of it. Every day since Bran’s letter, he had to fight the visceral urge to pack his family and board a ship to wherever, to escape all this. But deep down he knew no matter how far or long he sailed; this would never be over.

“What powers do you have that could possibly be of any help? I mean, they’re just babies. The twins barely toddling and Aemon, still a babe at my breast. What role could they possibly play in all this?” Dany asked.

“I control the elements. I call the storms, I can swallow ships in the sea, I can tame fire, I call and the wind answers. There will be others to come, with other abilities that correspond with the gifts of your children.” She said.

Jon snorted and grumbled. “Madness,” It was barely audible but Dany and Zanarra heard him.

Zanarra met his eyes and Dany swore there was a smirk on her lips. Zanarra began to whistle and suddenly a breeze caressed her and caused her dress to flutter lightly. She continued to whistle, and the wind picked up. She raised her hands in the air and rain began to fall.

Jon and Dany were no longer skeptics, while Grey Worm watched the entire encounter in his usually stoic manner. Before long, the household assembled in the courtyard to see the commotion.

Zanarra stood in the courtyard creating a storm only for them. When she opened her eyes, they were no longer gold, but the color of storm clouds, a deep grey, almost black. “Satisfied?” She asked.

Dany looked to childrens’ nurse and bid her to find a suitable chamber for their latest guest. “Very,” she said. “You’ll be shown to a room and bread and salt will be brought in. The evening meal will be served in 2 hours’ time. I would like it very much for you to join us in the main hall,” Dany said to her.

“I look forward to it,” she answered. She stopped at Grey Worm, “Will your men attend to my belongings?” He nodded his head and motioned to the Unsullied to begin unloading the carriage. She followed the nurse inside the palace and once she was out of earshot, everyone began talking at once.

‘A Summer Islander, that one,” Davos said.

“I visited the Isles, they have some of the fiercest fighters,” Arya said.

“I’ve never seen such a woman before. She is magnificent,” Tormund said. Brienne looked at him with disgust in her eyes. Tormund didn’t miss it. “My heart belongs to you beauty, but I’m not blind,” he said as he shrugged sheepishly. Davos laughed and clapped him on the back as they all filed inside.

Dany wanted to check on the Tarly’s before she got ready for the evening meal, to see how they fared. She walked the halls that led to the wing of the palace that held their rooms. Sam had a grand chamber that had a personal study and library attached. The ladies Tarly had three rooms, the main living quarters adjoined by a medium sized chamber that had a bath and privy.

She knocked lightly on the main door. Gilly answered and allowed her in. Talla and Lady Tarly curtsied with a formal “Your Grace,” as Dany entered.

“Please, let us dispense with the formalities. I just came to see if you ladies are comfortable and if you have need of anything while you’re here,” Dany said. Talla looked to her mother and Lady Tarly answered for both of them. “No, we have everything we need here.”

Dany raised a brow at this. The ladies had worn the same gowns since their arrival. She didn’t want to embarrass them so she didn’t push the matter.

‘Forgive me your Grace, Mother.” Talla said. “But we fled our home with nothing other than a small purse and my mothers most prized pieces of jewelry. We are in need of clothing, especially small clothes. We have coin, we just don’t know where to purchase these things, or how to, as we had all of our gowns made at Horn Hill. And it is so very hot here,” she stammered looking to her mother, fearing she displeased her.

“I will see that a dressmaker comes tomorrow to fit you for new clothing. In the meantime, Talla and Gilly, we look to be of the same size. You may take whatever you like from my things until your garments are made,” she turned to leave and asked “Will you be joining us for the evening meal, or will you take it here in your chambers?” she asked.

“We will join you tonight,” Lady Tarly answered. “And thank you Your Grace.”

They were all seated in the main hall at a grand monstrosity of a table that Davos had brought back from the market. When Dany saw them bringing the table in while they were still getting settled into the palace, he spotted the look on her face and said,  “I’m an old man and all I want to do is sit and eat good meal with my family.” After that, she indulged him. After all, they were the only family he had left.

Tormund sat across from Breinne and Podrick was to her right, with Arya to her left. Gendry sat on the left side of Arya and Davos sat across from Him. Jon was on his right side and Dany sat beside Jon. The place of honor, the head of the table was reserved Zanarra. The Tarly’s sat across from each other on the ends of the table. Sam and Gilly were suspiciously late, noticing their absence, Dany looked to Jon with a smirk, knowing they had _many things_ to catch up on.

Podrick never took his eyes off Zanarra, clearly enamored with her. Talla and Lady Tarly regarded her suspiciously, while Davos made small talk with her.

“My good friend Salladhor Saan was from the Summer Isles. Famous smuggler him,” he said.   


            Zanarra nodded her head in Davos’ direction. ‘I know of Salladhor, he came to my temple many times,” she said. Podrick met her gaze. “So, you’re a priestess then?” He asked.

            She laughed softly, “One could say that. My people are spiritual, but not in the traditional sense. The holiest thing a man and woman can do is to couple with each other. This is the source of all life. A fusion of masculine and feminine energies. My people believe that you are never closer to the Gods than when you are in the throes of passion,” she said.

            She looked around the table to gauge the reactions. Tormund was smiling from ear to ear and Davos began concentrating on dissecting his duck. Lady Tarly and Talla looked mortified, while Podrick blushed a deep crimson.

Jon and Dany regarded the scene with amusement. “So, you practice a form of sacred ‘prostitution’” Dany asked. “One could call it that, yes. But prostitution has such a negative meaning attached to it. I help supplicants find the God within themselves, for we are all divine beings.”  
            “Where are the children, may I see them before I retire for the evening?” She asked. Jon looked to Dany, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. “They are already down for bed, but I suppose you could look at them,” Dany said. “Thank you,” Zanarra replied.

“Can you tell us what you know about the threat we face?” Jon asked.

 “I know that you share blood, but he is no longer your kin. I know that he seeks to bring the entire known world under his heel. I know that what resides in your kin, at one point, wasn’t good or evil. It just _was._ It was the keeper of both good and evil. The memory of the world, but to just say that it was the memory of the world would be misleading.

 It’s so much more than that. Currently the elders of my tribe sit in meditation. The chief elder was deep in meditation when her third eye was burned. She said the entity took her sight, and poisoned her heart. She died, but not before she told me to heed my dreams and come to you, because the entity has amassed too much power,” she paused. “And all of that led me here,” she finished.

It was as if the air was sucked from the room. Lady Tarly went as pale as the paint on the walls, and excused herself. The silence was palpable, and Dany struggled with where to lead the conversation. “If “The Entity” could harm your elder, why haven’t my children been harmed?” Dany asked.

“Because he _can’t._ I don’t doubt that he hasn’t tried, but your children, as young as they may be, are experts at cloaking themselves and protecting their minds, but every day he gets stronger, and its only a matter of time before he is able to bypass their defenses.”

Arya pushed her chair back from the table abruptly and Gendry followed her without a word. “Excuse me, Zanarra.” Jon said as he left the dining hall to follow his sister.

“Arya!” he called but she didn’t slow down. Gendry broke his stride briefly and put his hands up, signaling Jon to stay back. Arya was in a black mood and the only thing to calm her down was a training session.

As she walked at a brisk pace to the courtyard, Arya pulled needle from her hip. She moved to the post in the far corner and started hacking and slashing her frustrations.

Jon caught up to her but stayed a safe distance away. “What troubles you sister?”

She hacked a few more times before she turned to face him. When she did her eyes shone with unshed tears and her lip trembled. “Jon, what if Bran is still in there somewhere, in pain, and suffering? I want to end it,” she cried. Her shoulders shook and Jon wrapped his arms around her.

She stiffened, but gradually allowed him to comfort her. “I know he’s beyond saving, but I know his soul is still tied to his body. And he’s in pain.” She continued to cry for a few minutes and Jon said nothing. “We will give him mercy, Arya, I swear it.”

Gendry approached and Jon handed her over. His heart was in his throat by the time he returned to the dining hall.

Tormund was halfway in his horn of ale, and Davos’ eyes were glazed over with drink. “Beauty, will you allow me a small comfort?” Tormund asked as he directed his gaze at Brienne. “What Tormund?” she sighed, slightly annoyed. “Walk with me in the gardens. Just for a moment,” he almost pleaded. She was about to say no when Zanarra spoke up.

“Sometimes what we think we want is the last thing we need, and what we need is the last thing we want,” she said as she looked at Brienne knowingly.

Brienne huffed and pushed from the table. “Fine, but if you touch me, you lose that hand.” Tormund offered her his arm and she took it, if hesitantly.

They walked in silence and when they reached the garden, Tormund led her to one of the benches that lined the walkways. The cicadas sang a song and the birds chirped. The smell of lemons and different flowers mingled in the air. It was comforting to Brienne, the sounds of the night and the smells of the garden.

“I’ve held a torch for you all this time. Why do you wound me so?”

“Tormund, I know you mean well, but I’m not interested in being your woman.” She said.

“But why? I’d never hurt you, and I wouldn’t cast you aside. I want to take care of your heart and treat you like the fierce, terrifying, beautiful woman you are” he said as he looked into her eyes. “Your eyes are like the deepest pools of blue water I have ever seen.”

She felt the heat creeping up her neck at his last statement and she didn’t know how to respond to that. The only time she’d felt like a woman was with Jamie.

Theirs was a bond formed in trauma and harrowing events. Brienne came to realize that he didn’t love her that way. He loved her, but not like he loved Cersei. Jamie saw that he could be an honorable man. That he had a choice. He loved her for _that,_ and nothing more. Her chest began to ache at the thought of him. He broke her heart into a million pieces that cold night in Winterfell. She never recovered, and her heart broke again when his body was pulled from the rubble of The Red Keep.

“I appreciate your feelings, but I’m not ready, Tormund,” she said as the tears spilled down her face. “He broke something in me. Something I didn’t even know I possessed. I just can’t,” she ended on a whisper.

He tilted her chin up and she stiffened, but then relaxed when she saw the tender look in his eyes. It wasn’t a look of passion or want. It was a look of acceptance and love. “Well lucky for you, I’m a master at fixing broken things.” He kissed her lip softly and stood up. “Sleep well my beautiful Knight.”

He bowed clumsily and she couldn’t help but chuckle. He left her sitting there contemplating their encounter. She waited to go back into the palace until the blush left her cheeks and the odd feeling in her stomach dissipated. She made a mental note to take no more walks with Tormund. Her heart would never survive another heartbreak.

Dany led Zanarra to the nursery once the meal was finished. They didn’t talk on the walk. Once the door was opened, she ushered Zanarra to the shared bed the girls slept in. Zanarra immediately went to Rhaella and laid a hand on her head.

“This one has gifts like mine,” she said.

“What of her sister?” Dany asked.

Zanarra placed her hand on Lyanna. Her eyes grew as big as saucers and her irises seemed to glow. “Impossible,” she whispered.

“What? What is it?” Dany asked as she looked from her children to Zanarra.

“This child controls time itself. She has access to the spirit realm, there are spirits with her now.” She said as she looked to Dany, who was now coming undone. “I’ll wait to see the babe in the morning.” She said as she walked out.

“You should have another chamber made up. Someone else will be here soon. Sleep well mother of dragons.” She said as she made her way to her own chambers.

Dany looked over her sleeping children and said a silent prayer to whatever Gods were listening. _Please protect my children. Please see that no harm comes to them._

She closed the door to the nursery and went to face her husband.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've added an original character. I hope you guys like her as much as i enjoyed imagining her. We delve a bit more into the ability of the children. And the Tormund and Bri moment melted my heart. We've never seen the tender side of Tormund. I had fun with this. Hope you have fun reading it.


	23. How Do You Mend A Broken Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello after a few weeks away. First off, I want to apologize to all the readers who have been waiting. I've had a series of misfortunate events these past weeks, and my literary muse went on hiatus because the writers block from stress was crazy. I'm back. This is a short interlude chapter and I apologize for that, however I have the next chapter nearly complete and i will post it wednesday night. I'm trying to come up with a consistent writing and posting schedule for you guys so you don't get nervous that i abandoned this story.

Arya rose before the sun. She barely slept during the night, her mind racing and her body coiled with the tension of upcoming war. She needed to move, she needed to fight. She picked up a sleeping Catelyn and gently roused her. She would be waking soon anyway, and she didn’t want to top training due to engorged breasts. She changed her soiled linens and afterwards, put her to her breast.

The child grew like a weed and her appetite rivaled that of any other babe in the palace. She gulped greedily to keep up with the strong letdown from Arya’s breasts, her eyes never leaving her mothers.

Arya smiled despite herself. Adjusting to motherhood was a struggle, but the letter from _him_ put everything into perspective. Something primal awoke within her at the thought of someone harming her daughter or Gendry. Catelyn’s gulps slowed and Arya knew it was time to switch her to the other breast. As she did so, the bed linens rustled, and Gendry popped his head up.

“Is it morning yet?” He asked groggily. “The dawn hasn’t come , but soon.” Gendry threw his legs out of bed and went to the privy. She smirked a bit as she saw the tent his morning erection made in his sleeping tunic.

_Typical,_ she thought. “I’m going to train when I finish with her. She should settle down and go back to sleep since her belly is full,” Arya said. “I’m sure even if she doesn’t we can find things to do. Daddy and his favorite girl can find plenty of mischief, can’t we little one?” He said as he smiled and cooed down at Catelyn.

“Do you have to be so stupid? She’s a baby, not daft. Talk to her like she’s a regular person, she’ll never learn to speak properly if you keep talking like that,”  
 she said as she rolled her eyes. She feigned annoyance but nothing warmed her like seeing Gendry be soft and tender with his daughter. If she was being honest, it did more than warm her heart, It warmed her other parts as well.

Gendry mussed her hair. “Don’t be jealous love, if a father can’t baby his baby then who can?” he said playfully. He kissed her then, it was tender and full of passion. _Gods I love her._ “None of that, My Lord. I have to get to it. I’ve a feeling where we’re going, you’re gonna need protecting, and I can’t do that if I’m rusty.” She handed the baby to Gendry and kissed her forehead.

She dressed quickly, opting for a thin leather vest and breeches. She put on her boots and sheathed Needle and her dagger. As she walked towards the door she grabbed her staff and glanced at her family before walking out. _They need protecting, and it seems I’m the only one to do it,_ she thought.

When she made it to the courtyard she realized she wasn’t the only one who was restless. Brienne was there hacking away at the post with a vigor she hadn’t seen from her since the battle against the dead.

“Ser Brienne,” Arya called out in greeting. “Princess,” Brienne said with a slight bow. “I’m no Princess,” she replied. Brienne only grunted in response. “What frustrates you so, that you’re up this early, demolishing our poor post man?”

Brienne stopped hacking and turned to Arya. “Matters of the heart, I’m afraid. But I could ask you the same question, Pr- Arya.”

Arya spun her staff and circled Brienne. “I’m sure we can talk about it once we’ve finished dancing,” she said.

Brienne took her fighting stance as Arya continued to circle her. She wanted Brienne to think she was looking for an opening, but she knew what she wanted to do. Brienne spun as Arya circled so as not to have her back open, but as she did so Arya swept her staff at her feet. Brienne jumped and avoided the swipe, swinging with an offensive strike at the same time. Brienne was so tall, that it came inches from Arya’s neck, but she bent backwards and avoided the strike.

They danced for some time, with Arya besting the knight every time. Finally, they tired and finished. “You’re going to have to teach me this water dancing,” Brienne said to Arya.

“I don’t think it would suit you. You’re an expert with a sword, but you fight in armor. It would only slow you down,” she said matter of factly. “But what troubles you this morning?”

Brienne sighed heavily and stretched her legs in front of her. She avoided Arya’s gaze as she spoke. “I don’t know really.”

“You’re lying. I can always tell when someone is lying.”

Brienne cast her eyes down, not sure how to put it. She had always been _the ugly one,_ the one everyone teased. A freak. The one no one wanted. She had loved Renly, in a way. And Jamie.

No matter how she tried to forget him, her chest hurt, and her eyes stung with unshed tears at the mention of his name. She loved him and he left her. He left her with child, and neither of them knew it at the time.

Soon after The King’s exile, Brienne was sickly and weak. Samwell diagnosed her bouts of nausea as inflammation and gave her a foul-smelling tonic. Even that made her ill. Brienne being Brienne, didn’t notice the significance of her lack of moonblood, because she bled erratically, but after almost nearly 3 moonturns of illness, she figured it out.

She couldn’t bring a bastard into a world that was so cruel to them, she wouldn’t curse her unborn child with the legacy of a Kingslaying father. She knew he was honorable, but the world didn’t know of his deeds. Most of all she knew, or at least she thought she knew she was no good to be anyone’s mother. She was made captain of the Kingsguard. How could she have a dead man’s child?

She remembered walking to Samwell’s chambers and asking him for the Moon tea. She loved her child enough to spare it from a lifetime of scorn and lack of a proper mother.

As her womb contracted and emptied her child onto her bed linens, it felt like she was losing Jamie all over again. She was vulnerable with him and gave him _everything._ Yet it wasn’t enough. It destroyed everything in her that he’d rather die with Cersei than live with her.

She lay there replaying the moment he left her standing in the courtyard of Winterfell as he left. He didn’t even look back. She clutched her stomach, which would soon be empty and cried. She cried because she knew she would be empty forever.

“Hello? Are you thinking of a lie to tell?” Arya asked, clearly frustrated.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but give me your word this stays between us,” Brienne said firmly. Arya nodded in understanding.

“After your brother went to The Wall, I found myself with child. With Jamie’s child.”

Arya looked at her sharply but said nothing. “It’s complicated, but Jamie saved my honor, kept me from being raped and lost his hand for it. He climbed into a bear pit to save my life. He armed me and charged me to find you and your sister because he swore an oath to your mother. I know how you must hate him, but he was _good,”_ she stated.

Nervously, she ran her hands through her hair. She needed a distraction to keep her tears from falling. “I loved him, and he was good. But he left me. I drank moon tea and purged the child. At the time I thought I couldn’t be what I am and be a mother. I thought that my child would be scorned for being a bastard and for being the child of the Kingslayer. But now I know it was cowardice,” she looked up at Arya and continued on a shaky breath.

“I regret it, every minute of every day, you know. My child would be about the same age as the twins. I see you with your daughter, and the King and Queen with their children, and I mourn for my child every day.” The dam broke and the tears she had forced herself not to shed since the night she drank the moontea flowed freely.

Arya slid closer to her and put her arm around her. It was awkward for her, seeing Brienne like this. So she said nothing and put her head against her arm.

Brienne hadn’t been touched by another person outside of sparring since Jamie, and that bit of physical contact broke down any remaining resolve she had left. She crumbled and in that moment she was free to let out all the love and hurt and insecurity she had trapped in her chest for so long.

She cried for a long time, and Arya just sat there, silently comforting her. After some time, her sobs faded to soft hiccups when she straightened and said, “Tormund fancies me. And I don’t know if I could ever let someone in again. The pain I felt was worse than being pierced with a sword, but I can’t help but feel sad because now I know what I’m missing. Sometimes I wonder how it would have turned out had I chosen Tormund. Maybe I would have a living child,” she finished.

“If you look back you are lost. You had feelings for Jamie, and until you explored that, you would not have been right for Tormund,” Arya said. “He’s a good man, and he’s loyal. He deserves a woman who wants to be with him. Not with him because they’re lonely and he’s filling a void. Tormund loves _you._ It was never a choice he had to make, because it was always you. He loves you. Don’t do to him what Jamie did to you. That one would gnaw off his own hand before he hurt you. Don’t hurt him”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I feel for Tormund. It’s not love, and  it’s not nothing either. But I would never want him to feel like a second option.” Arya shrugged and stood up. “You never know until you talk to him.” She turned and made her way into the palace to find something to fill her belly. She looked back and Brienne was still sitting there as the sun just started to reveal itself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's important for me to explore any conflicting emotions Brienne may be feeling. I love the Briemund ship but i think that she didnt really get any closure with the Jamie plotline, they built up this relationship and made her the key to Jamie's redemption, only to have her begging in a housecoat and slippers. I needed her to have real unresolved emotions because Brienne didn't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. Hope you enjoyed and please comment. Your comments give me inspiration.  
> Next chapter is the rest of the mentors show up for the targlings, some angst, some smut, and a certain northern queen finally makes an appearance.


	24. We Drink and Know Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa, Bran and Tyrion

Her knees were sore and bruised from being prostrate waiting for the command to rise. Her back was bent and cramped and she had desperate need of a chamber pot, but she was Queen In The North and she would not show any weakness, not here or for anyone. Once Bran was crowned and Jon exiled, she vowed never to set foot in this wretched city. Yet here she was, bowing and scraping to secure food for her people.

  
The North was starving. The Lord of The Reach cut off all travel and trade, and stopped sending grain and livestock to the capital. She was cut off from all six Kingdoms and was unable to reach any agreements with the High Lords after refusing every marriage proposal. She was Queen in her own right. She sacrificed family to be Queen and she would not give up her rule for a marriage bed and squalling babes.

  
So here she sat, on her knees at the mercy of whatever or whoever it was that occupied the body of her brother. She cleared her throat in the hopes that would gain his attention. She dared to lift her head and regard the figure sitting in the wheeled chair.   
She raised her eyes to his and was taken aback by what she found. Emptiness. There was nothing behind those eyes that she knew so well. He regarded coolly before finally speaking.

  
“Lady Stark, you may rise.” His voice was void any emotion or recognition for wo he was. But a gentle reminder of who she was wouldn’t hurt. “Apologies, Your Grace, but I am no Lady. I am Queen in my own right.” He regarded her for a moment more before he laughed, if you could call it that. To Sansa it sounded dry and lifeless, like when one steps upon dry autumn leaves. The sound chilled her to her core and put a fear in her heart she hadn’t felt since the battle of Winterfell.

“You are Queen only because I allow it. At the time I thought you would serve my needs, keeping an eye on your brother beyond the wall. But you failed. The people starve, and there are whispers of deposing you. So, tell me sister, what good are you to me?”

  
Sansa shrank back as if she were physically assaulted by his words. Where there was no emotion in his words before, there was clear hatred and contempt for her now. “Bran,” she started but was cut off by his booming voice.   
“You were always the most shallow, the most selfish and stupid of the Starks. BRANDON STARK IS DEAD.” His voice surrounded her and filed her all at once. All of a sudden she felt vulnerable and small. She knew she wasn’t safe.

  
The Keep is empty of everyone. I saw no guards, no servants. No one greeted me at the gates. Where is Lord Tyrion? And where are my guards?

  
She glanced around nervously trying to survey her current situation and how she might extricate herself from these chambers. Her personal guards stood outside the chamber doors, but she knew she needed a way to change the tide of this conversation, lest she end up a prisoner here. Her brother was dead, and she knew he would be of no help to feed her people.

  
“Apologies, Your Grace. Forgive my ignorance. It was a long trip and the travel conditions were less than favorable,” she bowed her head in deference. “I know well how unfavorable travel conditions were. And I know why you’re here. The people are hungry and your rule is being questioned by those that once crowned you. The north always remembers but their loyalty only goes as far as a full belly. But you wanted to rule, you wanted to be independent. So rule. Send a raven east and beg grain, but you will not find any here.”

  
Sansa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She betrayed Jon for him, the blood of the Innocents of King’s Landing is on her hands as well as the Dragon Queen. Bran told her what would happen when she revealed Jon’s true parentage to Tyrion. The plotting, the poison, the death of her advisor and Rhaegal. He told her he would be King and give The North it’s independence. He told her they would be allies. She cursed herself for her stupidity.

  
She sucked in a breath and dared to continue. “Your Grace, if I may inquire to Lord Tyrion’s whereabouts? If it please you,” she hastily added.

  
“You may, Tyrion is on a ship making its way across the Narrow Sea. He’s gone East in what I assume to be a futile attempt to find the Targaryen Dragon spawn.” He said it so nonchalantly Sansa was taken aback. “So who counsels you? Who guards you?” She asked.   
He barked that dry evil laugh again. “I am all seeing and all powerful. I existed before the first living thing was ever born. What need of advisors and guards do I have, when I can crush a man’s heart with a mere thought!”

  
As those words left his mouth, Sansa felt a sharp pain and pressure building in her chest and she realized hat he was doing. “Please,” she wheezed. Just like that the pain was gone. She felt her nose running and her mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, noting she was bleeding from there as well.

  
“Soon, Lady Stark, the world will know my name again, they will know who it is that owns them.”

  
She was horrified. She didn’t know who sat In front of her, but she knew what it was. Pure evil. She had to get out of here, gather her guards and make her way back to the North. She noticed his eyes went white and slowly she backed out of the chamber until her back bumped the door. She knew from times passed that when he was in his visions he wasn’t aware to what was going on around him. If there was a time to escape it was now because there was no doubt if she didn’t, she would be his prisoner.

  
She opened the heavy oak door, and almost screamed when she saw two of her guards in a pool of their own blood and shit. The armor and clothes pooled around what was left of their bodies. She dared take a closer look and spilled the meager contents of her stomach onto the floor. What she saw was a sack of flesh, with no substance, it was as if the organs and bones were liquified, leaving only skin behind. When she looked into what should have been their eyes, she saw only pink liquid.

  
She ran through the keep until she reached the outer courtyard and looked for the rest of her guard. Her wagons were untouched, but twenty of her men lay strewn about the courtyard, liquified as the other two had been. She ran to her personal wagon and grabbed her purse, heavy with gold dragons and precious stones. She rummaged through a trunk and switched her fine fur cloak for a plain woolen one.

  
Hours had passed since she fled the keep and she found herself in flea bottom. The last time she was here was the riot and she was almost raped and killed. She was scared. The refuse piled in the streets and the sewers choked with waste. She stepped over a skeletal woman and an equally skeletal child. “Please M’lady, a copper for a bowl of brown for the little one?” The woman begged. She took out a few coppers from a smaller purse around her waist, gave it to the woman, but didn’t break stride.

  
Finally she came upon the last inn in he city. She prayed they had a room, or even a bench. She was tired and hungry. She entered the small hovel and immediately took note of the stifling temperature and the stink of unwashed bodies. She sat down at a table and a serving girl made her way to her. She ordered some brown bread, ale and inquired if there was a room available. “If anyone is willing to give up their room, I will pay,” she said loudly.

  
No one responded so she went about the business of eating her stale bread. “My lady, you are quite a ways from Winterfell,” a voice, all too familiar said to her and she whipped her head around, daring not to believe her ears. “Lord Tyrion,” she gasped. He waddled around her and sat across from her. “It is I. Our fates seem to be intertwined, for I have a room and no coin, and you have coin and no room. I think an alliance of necessity is in our future.” He helped himself to a piece of her bread and took a hearty sip from her cup.

  
Sansa smirked despite herself. “I was told by His Grace that you were on a ship East to find Jon and her.” He mood darkened considerably. Tyrion furrowed his brow. “My lady, as I said, I am without coin,” he said as he eyed her mug and plate of bread. “Of course,” she motioned for the serving girl and let Tyrion order.

  
She watched him inhale his food and slurp his ale in silence. When he had finished, he stood and offered her a hand. “Allow me to escort you to our chambers,” he added with that impish gleam in his eye she knew all too well. It was all she could do to suppress a smile.

  
They ascended the rickety stairway to the room he occupied. The room was dusty and smelled stale, but in the corner sat a large feather bed with a pillow and a glorious fire roared in the fireplace. She almost groaned at the sight. Her bones ached from making camp on the hard ground night after night during her travels.

  
Tyrion went to the corner and removed his well worn boots and sat on the only chair that occupied the room, motioning for her to take a seat upon the bed.

  
“Why are you here and not in the Keep?” He asked, getting right to business. She almost forgot how direct and honest Tyrion had been. It was so long since she had a conversation with someone who knew her as he did. In Winterfell, everyone that surrounded her, were her subjects. She didn’t have a true friend, nor romantic companion. She was lonely. Part of the reason she looked forward to her trip to the capitol.

  
She was expecting to see Brienne, once her sworn sword and Podrick. But the Keep was desolate. And now, here she and her former husband sat in a dusty room.

  
She met his eyes and measured her words. “Because Bran is not Bran.” She waited for a reaction from him and got none. “No. He’s not is he? The six Kingdoms suffer under his rule. If you can call what he’s doing ruling.” Tyrion dragged a hand across his face. Sansa noticed that his beard grew wild and unkempt. He truly was worse for the wear.

  
“How long have you been hiding out here?” She asked. He sighed heavily. ‘A little over four moons. I’ve lost count. But I am truly without fiends it seems. Ser Bronn got his castle and despite the many ravens I’ve sent, I have yet to hear from him.” He met her eyes, blue as the water from in Tarth, and searched them. Gone was the girl he married all those years ago. What he saw was a calculating politician, who did nothing if it didn’t benefit her. “Can I count you as a friend Lady Sansa?”

  
“It’s Your Grace, and that depends. What is it you mean to do?” He chuckled softly. “It seems littlefinger and Cersei were good teachers. It’s simple. I mean to right past wrongs. I betrayed my queen. Now that I think on it, I chose my family over her, every time. Perhaps if I hadn’t released Jamie, if I had convinced her to stay in Winterfell a bit longer, things might have turned out differently.

  
She shook her head. “She was the Mad Kings daughter. If she didn’t burn the Capital when she took it, she would have burned another city at another time.” She stood up to stoke the fire and turned her back to him. “I knew the moment Jon returned by her side that she had manipulated him.”

  
Tyrion took a breath Fuck it. I may as well just say it. “Is that why you hated her? Or is it because your brother truly loved her, and you were lonely? Were you jealous? Because as I see it, The Queen came to save all of the North, without so much as a thank you.” He waited for her response, which was slow in coming.

  
She faced him, “No, I hated her because she burned men alive. I hated her because she was a tyrant.”

  
Tyrion smiled sadly. “She wasn’t a tyrant until our betrayals made her one.” He stretched his legs. They ached terribly and he began to massage the knots out of them. He grunted somewhere between pain and relief at the pressure from his fingers. “I didn’t betray her,” she said. “No, you just broken a sacred oath beneath a heart tree. An oath made to your brother or cousin. It seems it was him you betrayed,” he said with a shrug.

  
“He would have been a good King, better than her.” Tyrion wasn’t sure if he believed that she believed her words, for her voice trembled and her eyes glistened. “Everything went so wrong so fast. If Jon were king he would have made sure the North was independent, but he couldn’t do that as a mere consort.” The words she spoke were for her benefit because Tyrion knew better. “If you truly felt that way, you would have made his identity known, and pressed his claim at the summit. You remember that meeting, where all the Lords voted to have him exiled. Just tell it true. We all played a role in his manipulation and The Queens death. Once I admitted that fact, it was easy to see my wrongs. And make no mistake Your Grace, you are anything but blameless.” He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, content to fall asleep then and there when Sansa spoke.

  
“My Lord, we can discuss the past all night, but that won’t change the fact that Westeros is in ruins. The people of The North are starving and King’s Landing fares no better. Bran is not the King I thought he would be. I came here seeking aid, now I’m afraid to even go back. I’m failing my people.”

  
Tyrion opened his eyes. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Sana’a rolled her eyes. “I have no use for senseless japes.” She said. “No, but tell me, have you heard the rumors? I’m sure you have. Daenerys lives and Jon is with her and her children.” If Tyrion hoped for a reaction, he received none. “Rumors are just that, rumors.”

  
“I’m afraid not, Jon is indeed in Essos. So my next question is, what are you willing to do to see your people fed? What are you willing to do to remove Bran from power?” He asked.

  
She looked to him then, and he wasn’t sure what she would say. He worried she would manipulate and angle her way out of the treason they spoke of, but was shocked to silence when she said “Anything.”   
“Even sail East and beg forgiveness?” He asked.   
“As I just said, anything.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wassup y’all? I’ve been gone for a minute and I know some of you are cringing that this is a Sansa and Tyrion chapter, but everyone has had enough of the Ravens shenanigans. But keep in mind just because they want to right past wrongs doesn’t necessarily mean that Jon and Dany give one single fuck what they want. I hope you enjoy. If I can get 30 comments I will post the next update Sunday night!


End file.
